Love to me has never felt real. Rather a lie that is told to keep someone alive. Every marriage I’ve ever known has started or ended in disaster. Married due to pregnancy. Children tossed aside. Children given up. Children used as an attempt to save a marriage. Messy divorces. Arguments between parents. Cheating partners. Words thrown like bullets, aiming to maim. Affairs. Lies of “I love you” when with someone else. Messy fights. Arrests. An afternoon in the police department. Lies. Excuses. Keeping someone around to get what they want, to get out of a sticky situation they put themselves in. Living out of someone else’s house. Fear. Of getting to know someone but the next minute they’re gone. Of opening up just for the world to crumble. Again and again. Saying goodbye. To words left unreturned. Custody hearings. Lies told to children to make them feel unloved. Unwanted. To the point when even if love was shown, I never believed it. I questioned its motive. I denied its existence. Even though I craved it. No love between siblings, just anger and loneliness. No way to love someone if you’ve never been shown how. Questioning my worthiness, my purpose, my point. My existence.
This is such joyous piece filled with hope. I couldn't help feeling content after reading, especially when I've questioned love's motive too before, so many times. It can really wear your spirit down. Everything that love has meant before, and now, it finally being an honest and pure love that doesn't seek to tear you down, is something beyond inspiring and special. Love this so much!
Thank you for this. I really wanted to pack the punch at the end, spell out all of the things that love has never been or the idea of love that was shown to me, then take it all back. So happy you liked it.