Seemingly the easiest thing to understand yet the hardest thing to live. Everyone claims to be loving in some sense. Well I love my mother, father… and my friends… ? Do I? They don’t even know what music I like for example… now that i think about it, they don’t know shit about me >: ‘(
yet reality shows that my whole life was void of love and I pretended everything was good until I noticed, that this thing called love is very, very seldom. We are all so pretentious… groups of individuals clinging together in a unity of loneliness.
Will I ever be like them? No I’d rather kill myself- which is why i’m here… or learn what true love means …
This doesn’t make any sense to anyone who is not me , probably…
2 comments
True love is probably the hardest and most meaningful goal to have in life. I had to make it that bit harder and seek unconditional love… I learned how to give it, but I don’t think anyone is truly capable of returning it. Which makes it seem rather pointless. I can love someone no matter what… Even if they don’t talk to me… I can hold onto my love for eternity. It doesn’t have to hurt, but of course it does. Not always… Sometimes I can think of love and smile. It will be better when I have someone to share it with of course. But for now I have my memories. One of my favourite books is “The Joy of loving Dangerously” this book taught me how love is a gift to myself- no matter how the person feels about me, if I can hold that love it brings me joy… Sorrow too. But ultimately it is wonderful. In the end we are just memories anyway… Why taint your memories with need or greed. If someone can’t give you something… It doesn’t mean you have to stop loving that person. Even if they have no time no words and no love… love can still exist in you.
I know what you mean. I, too, gave unconditional love and got abandoned and erased in return. And I still love them just the same after they betrayed me in the worst possible way. And I always will. But, the pain is just too much to bear. The memories have ceased bringing me any comfort, and all they do is drive me further into despair. The desire to see them once again is constant, unending and ultimately overwhelming. It’s time to check out of this hotel called life.