Time to wax philosophic like::
"Have you even been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...
You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "maybe we should just be friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."
Rose Walker
But I don't hate love. I believe in love. I obviously have no choice but to follow my heart - it's who I am. So there are very dark days and there are brilliant days and so far I have survived these extremes.
...and if I had a choice - I would still be this way. I love to fly. And even when you plummet you get the weird feeling in your stomach/groin (you know that feeling?) and it's not altogether unpleasant...it reminds you that you are ALIVE.
"Have you even been in love? Horrible, isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens your heart and it means someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses. You build up this whole armor, for years, so nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...
You give them a piece of you. They don't ask for it. They do something dumb one day like kiss you, or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so a simple phrase like "maybe we should just be friends" or "how very perceptive" turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a body-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love."
Rose Walker
But I don't hate love. I believe in love. I obviously have no choice but to follow my heart - it's who I am. So there are very dark days and there are brilliant days and so far I have survived these extremes.
...and if I had a choice - I would still be this way. I love to fly. And even when you plummet you get the weird feeling in your stomach/groin (you know that feeling?) and it's not altogether unpleasant...it reminds you that you are ALIVE.