And at one point, we all thought he was the one. That one man to call your husband and a man who will call you his wife, eventually. A point where you both paint a perfect picture of a wonderful and happy relationship years ahead. A house with a colorful garden, two children, maybe three, a swing set and a swimming pool.
That point in time there was no one else but you & him, him & you, and there was no other but countless dreams, goals and plans. The point where nothing he can ever say or do, will make you think twice about how you feel.
Love is a beautiful thing, you both believe and at this point, he was the only man you hold, you lock lips with, you make love with. The time he was the other, in significant other & that, that’s when you realize he’s the one making everything alright, each and every day and night, as you listen to his heart beat, that’s beating your name, as you both slowly fall asleep breathing each other’s love.
But at one point, things simply change. You are still you and he is still he, but slowly drifting from that ‘you & me’. At one point, feelings simply go. There’s never any guarantee that tomorrow, you will wake up, and wake up with him loving you.
At one point, we wake up to a whole another person who is doubting himself, doubting you & worse, doubting love. We wake up one morning to someone who is falling out & falling apart. At one point, we wake up to somebody who wants to take a step back, a step further and further from the woman he claimed he loved. And at this point? We lose everything. We lose our trust in love. We lose our trust in relationships. We lose our trust in people.
But yet at one point, we try to rise above it all, move on and simply, let go. Hoping that at one point, we'll find that certain ‘other’ that won’t ever leave us, no matter where we are at any point in our lives.
18.2.12
Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out & leaves you crying in the darkness. So simple a phrase like “I don't want to hurt you” or “I just want you to be happy” turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It’s a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment