Love
When I first started Tumblr, I wrote quite often on this subject (the subject of love that is). I wrote about how much I didn’t know what it was. How much I wish I knew, or that I think others didn’t know. When in fact I was ignorant to what it is I was actually addressing.
The fact that I wanted it.
I want love, I want love to be you. I remember a year or two ago. I was on the phone one late night having a discussion with this boy and he hung up on me, because he had something he had to say but he couldn’t do it. I had feelings for two people at this point in time. And he had to hold back or felt like he had to hold back on how he felt so when it got too much for him he would hang up on me. I never realized till he told me why he did that, that that’s why he did but. The one night he just told me he loved me. That everything I did made him a better person the way he views life the whole nine yards, and when he did that. I forgot about the other boy. The other boy good god, I feel like I set him up for misery albeit he’s still in a relationship and I never got to be in a relationship with the other boy. I went for the one who told me they loved me. Because all I ever wanted was love. To be loved, to feel it.
I figured that’s a strong word, his points valid why not? Why not? Well I wasn’t ready god what I did. I fell and pretended that I wanted to be caught, and wasn’t. Its complicated to say the least what occurred. Basically we parted because I was afraid to be committed, to have love again- ehh maybe not again, but to the extent of how I knew the word and its meaning to myself. But how I regretted it when he found another- another who he is still with. Its funny how I can make lasting relationships for others and not myself.
Lately I feel like one of the boys in my tale. The only problem with my tale is that the girl (me) ended up alone in the end. Because she was chasing to be loved, but not really feeling it, and he threw away something new because of the chance of love. I want the boy in this case to be happy, to be with the person he truly likes maybe even love if that’s his thing.
I want him to be happy, because (and I shouldn’t be saying this not here) I love him. I know I do, because I’m so miserable hahahaha. I’m miserable because I actually feel. I feel the power of happiness, the regrets of sorrow, the pain in sadness and I feel the incredible desire to ruin my life for the sake and happiness of another- I feel love.
You see to me love is that. Its throwing yourself in the lions dens to die so the other could live. Its putting their needs above your own. Of pleasing them, and if you’re loved back they do the same. Its being miserable because all you want to do is see their face, speak their name, spend every second in their embrace. Its putting it all on the line. Its how I feel every moment I’m with you. Its crazy, and possibly stupid, but I’d do anything to make you smile. To see you rightfully happy.
I just simply love you, and it took tonights blunder to admit it to myself. And so now I did to you too.
