End

Love? What do I know of love?
I write about it and dream about it and wish to find it one day.
But what do I know of love?
In college, a psychology major, been from Jersey to Kansas and back again.
But I know nothing of love. I know nothing of life, I know nothing of the world.
I'm giving up.
This is the end.
I don't want to dream about it, I don't want to sit in my room night after night, wondering when my life is about to begin.
I want to stop wanting it.
I want to stop feeling as if its happening and then one day wake up and realize its not.
I'm tired of it.
This is really the end.

"The Love Doctor"

Am I destined to become the expert on love? It's a topic that I barely know anything about myself, that almost none of us will ever know anything about. It's a topic that scares me, that fear that I fight on a daily basis because I know that what I have is wonderful.

My roommate asked me today how does anyone know they are in love. I couldn't answer her, but the question has stayed on my mind. What I've come up with is probably little to what the actual answer is, but after considering that, I realize that there is no actual answer.

The dictionary defines love as (1) A deep, tender, ineffable feeling of affection and solicitude toward a person, such as that arising from kinship, recognition of attractive qualities, or a sense of underlying oneness; (2) A feeling of intense desire and attraction toward a person with whom one is disposed to make a pair, the emotion of sex and romance; (3) An intense emotional attachment; (4) A person who is the object of deep or intense affection or attraction.

To me:
Love is when you walk blindfolded into a room and when you open your eyes, they are the only person you can see.
Love is when you are thousands of miles away from that person, and you miss them dearly, but can still function in your daily life.
Love is giving up your life-long dreams just to stay with that person if they asked you to, but knowing they never would.
Love is forgiving painful mistakes.
Love is crying when that person tells you they love you.

But I think the bible says it best:
"Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record or wrongs. Love does not delight in evil, but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails." (1 Corinthians 13:4-8a)

(Revisions to come, I promise that one.)

After reading my older posts, I've realized that there is somewhat of a trend in my writings. I've also realized that when I go into something, I go into it whole-heartedly. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but I do tend to get hurt quite a bit more. Meaning, I feel it at about twice the magnitude because I've put my entire being into whatever it is. But for some strange reason I don't see that changing anytime soon, so I guess anyone who reads this will have to put up with the writing trend. And who knows, maybe someone sees this and feels I'm writing for them, what they are thinking and are too scared to voice or ink. Who knows?

*Sigh* just another dream of this hapless poet.

Pause... Stop... Rewind

Pause... stop... rewind...
Let's go back a few months, heck, let's go back a year.
Back to when perfection was perfect
And nothing else mattered when I was in your arms.

Pause... stop... rewind...
How about we forget that this past year ever happened.
Forget about the mistakes, and the heartache,
The tears, the fears and the comments of our peers.

Pause... stop... rewind...
I guess hindsight really is 20/20.
We only know how good we got it
When we can never get it back.

But life doesn't happen that way,
It's not like a movie that we can stop when it gets to scary,
That we can rewind and re-shoot when we mess up.
We get once chance to get it right,
And if we miss a line, if we miss a cue,
We're stuck with that memory forever.

But I can tell you one thing that's true.
Love always prevails over everything.
If it's meant to be, it will happen,
Through distance and hardtimes,
Through mistakes and screw ups,
No matter what, love will win out over everything.

The moral of my rantings is simple and true,
You can give up and live in misery,
Or you can keep trying, keep loving and never lose hope,
And live in joy and happiness,
Knowing that in this world of ups and downs,
Good and bad,
That the good will win,
And life is good.

Confusion Sets In...

I don't know what I want...

He doesn't know what he wants...

Two lost souls in the entire world, facing each other, knowing each other inside and out...

It's a stand off between mind and heart...

The world continues to move around them without bothering to take a second look...

They've been here before, this scene is all too familiar...

And the confusion sets in...

The smell of his shirt, the taste of her lips...

Embraced in arms of love...

But the world continues...

Leaving them in the dust...

I don't know what I want...

He doesn't know what he wants...

And the confusion sets in.

Confession

I'm starting to believe that I found "The One". The only thing is that I played with him. I let him go, not once, but twice. I didn't learn my lesson, and now there isn't a chance of it coming back. I never stopped loving him. I tried my best, I tried to deny it and hide it, but I never stopped loving him. I never got my heart back even though I was the one who broke it off. Both times.

But now it's too late. I can cry all the tears in the world, I can plead until I lose my voice, nothing will work because it's too late.

I know he will never read this, but I want to say I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I hurt you and that I pushed you away. And I'm sorry for still loving you the way I do. But I will always be your friend, and I will always support you and be there when you need it.

"If there's a prize for rotton judgement, I guess I've already won that..."

Fallen Angel

*I wrote this after drawing something of a self portrait. The "self portait" was a combination of how I feel and how I wanted to feel. It turned out as a young girl, her shirt and jeans torn, a cross around her neck with the words help and scared scratched into her body, with cuts on her arm and stomach. She has wings, one turned upright, the other fallen to the floor with feathers falling out. Hence the title "Fallen Angel".

Cut, bruised and bloody
This fallen angel has no one to turn
Lost in this world, scared and lonely
The sky stays clear and blue

Her parents fight
Her boyfriend cheats
How this life be right?

She takes the razor blade
Slip, slash, a moment of pain
She's out in the glade
Not the bloody lane

A woman walks past
And ignores our angel on the ground
But the man comes through at last
And slowly she comes around

This angel is fallen no more
This little girl will spread her wings
Her tears on her face will not pour
Everyday day now she sings