Why is love so complicated?
When it is meant to be so simple?
Maybe we, as humans expect too much.
The end of suffering through merely passion and affection?
Seems so nonsensical but so essential.
She cries by her window,
Longing for her love to be returned.
She holds the glass of wine to her lips,
And sheds an endless river of tears.
Her life is so full of people,
But she feels so alone.
She prays for her love to be returned,
Because she needs to fill her void
And is convinced love will do that for her.
Her pain is real, it is alive,
One can see it in her eyes.
She understands not why life treats her so unfairly.
She hopes one day she will love her,
How she needs to be loved.
But she has been waiting for that day for years,
And it still has not arrived.
She holds on to special moments,
Which, to her, are evidence of love as it is supposed to be.
Evidence of her dreams. Fragments
If she can love,
then she can be loved.
Isn't that what they teach us all to believe?
Fairytales.
No one mentions the heart ache,
The failed dreams,
The emptiness.
And all this time,
She sits by her window,
Wondering what she could have done differently,
What she could have said.
But nothing makes sense.
A million years of pondering will never give her the answers she needs.
Only time will cure her pain.
Time and Strength.
Sometimes the people you fall in love with,
Poison your blood with their infection,
Which you believe is affection.
You fall and they do not.
And so, under deception, your love grows stronger
Almost like an irreversible, malignant illness.
And at the end,
When the truth is unveiled,
It is too much for the soul to understand.
So the pain it faces makes it break.
A broken soul is something one must pity,
And reflect on,
For a broken soul embodies the power we have as people to hurt and harm each other.
Why say you love her,
When you do not.?
