Dear Love,
I say dear for you are very close to my heart and to call you by name would seem impossible, so i named you Love. Love, a creation within itself, yourself. How can one generate its own purpose, yet at the same time be generated by another?
How can you mimic the sweet warmth of the spring sun that never seems to set? You are not quite summer yet because you will need to blossom first and to do this you would need a fertilisation experience with other seedlings.
As you venture through difference of scene and time you see many of these little seedlings grow whilst you nurture them. Do you feel their warmth as you become part of them? No, you cannot feel the warmth of your own being can you, you’re just…just…unable. Do you sympathise with others like you, others that are unable? They may never feel your warmth, your kindness, your overwhelming generosity of giving a new view of life. Some just don’t understand you; there are so many qualities about you that could only take a lifetime to fully comprehend.
You don’t die.
You can when embedded within a child of yours, but that would be a part of them that died, not you. However many centuries or lifetimes we have and will encounter, you will always be there.
I would compare you to the beautiful radiance of the lord himself, almighty God, but there is no realistic proof of him. Yet, there is proof of you. Everyone is your witness, believer, follower…survivor.
In fact I am a survivor. A living creature of who fell from your loving embrace. I have to admit though; it is a risk to climb to the tallest tower knowing you could fall off at any second. Of course i wouldn’t have to fall, someone could pull me down with temptation or deceit, lies or deceit. I could in fact be pushed or accidentally nudged off of the edge.
You ask me to remember when I fell, how I fell, why I fell.
You’re creeping back inside of me.
GET OUT! You’re not allowed here anymore, but you have already penetrated me deep within my memory. This opens up paths to my heart that haven’t been accessed for years. They were forgotten. Deeper into my heart you go, you won’t stop now, nothing could ever stop you. You are far too powerful.
My heart sinks deeper into despair; a despair that I thought had been rid from my soul forever. You prove me wrong, again.
How many times must I feel so empty?
How many times can I feel so alone?
Why do you inflict this mind game upon me? It would seem you wanted a break from all that tiresome giving and making others happy, when you would receive nothing in return. You yourself are used. You are just a tool used in life, you know that?
You have no mother, no father, and no goals in life. Only to live forever trying to make people happy, yet every time little to no appreciation is shown. Smiles and tears are your appreciation, the majority being tears. You deserve it though. You may be able to give yourself to someone, but in the end they will descend from you in one way or another. No one really wants you; you are oblivious to the truth. You are the building blocks of life that all come tumbling down when one of two seedlings has deceased from your world; our world.
I sometimes dream I would never have been born, never experienced you. You occupied my time for so long, I felt lifted; like I had really achieved something special. Then you decided to focus on ‘more important things’ and I too was forgotten. You started to fade from within my heart, it never skipped a beat now. I would see my other half, and think of it as ‘normal’; no longer something special of which I kept dear in my heart waiting constantly for our next meeting.
You soon made me hate them, loathe them and despise their actions. You had trapped me in a vicious cycle: they didn’t have time for me, so consequently I had no time for you. I didn’t appreciate either of you, and still don’t. You bastards!
Your hatred that filled me heart turned me into a deep blue ice. I was cold. So very cold. Deprived of all I wanted and dreamed, and given all I wished to rid.
The pain never ceased, the tears never dried. I became so familiar with these tears that they became a comfort to me. Just as you were…once upon a time.
I would lie in my bed at night feeling the depression pumping through my veins like an addictive drug but deadly drug. I would try to sleep but fail countless times, then the warmth of my pain would soothe me as I disposed of this torture through my shut eyes.
Tears would roll down my cheeks, just as they are now. They comfort me and make me feel complete again; just as you used to do. I drown my sight so I can no longer see my truth, only an unknown, un-understood blur.
They say ‘whatever you don’t know can’t hurt you’.
They also say ‘whatever you don’t understand you become afraid of’.
I am afraid of you, because I know what you are capable of. I know you can hurt me severely and leave me with scars that I can try and cover up and no one will notice. But I will know of their existence, constantly underneath this mask.
I don’t want to take risks because of you.
I don’t want to learn anymore about you.
I don’t want you to be a part of me at all anymore. Never again.
Others may handle you and take you in with open arms and cherish you as their own. But I am not Love’s fool. I’ve played that game before and lost, more than you can imagine.

So it is probably best that I don’t ask you to reply; you couldn’t anyway…

You’re just an emotion.
An emotion that lived in my head.
An emotion which now is dead.