On Love

What is this terrible thing called ‘love’? That makes fools of wise people? That brings people to their knees and draws many to tears? Can we only experience love if we have experienced heartache? How do you tell? Whatever love is, for me it seems dangerous territory, unchartered, violent and wild…a territory that I fear to tread for I lose myself. Have I lost myself already?

Can one truly love and not be loved in return? Would that be the utmost dedication? Would that be the utmost stupidity? Would it be true?Indeed the whirlpool of emotions I feel.. the rush of blood to my head (it was inevitable…Chris Martin is a demi-god) can only mean one thing. I’ve fallen (why not risen?) in love… in love with a mirage… if only it were real…if only the waves that guided me to this barren island had not led me to you…if only

You are the weakness inherent in me… Were you a deity, I would be your one true believer. I would turn to all the religious bigotry that I wish away and loathe so much to comfort me and to give expression to my obviously unfounded admiration of all that you are. But alas you are neither a deity nor am I a believer.

It is my awareness of that fine distinction; what you really are and what I sometimes – in my drunkeness – make you out to be, that saves me from losing myself entirely.Too strong is my apprehension of all that is deified that I cannot even bring myself to accept that maybe, just maybe in the slightest I have blinded my own judgment by exalting you to a position I dare not allocate to anyone (or anything) else. Indeed I am as lost as I have ever been.

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