A break up is like a maze: you question everything you knew;
was it really love?
Did I waste “x” amount of time, just living a lie?
You take a turn, take a few tenacious steps,
thinking that perhaps finally you are heading in the right direction…
thinking that you know where you’re heading and then you come to a dead end.
The exit seems forever out of sight!
My last love was my first love;
I fought for my love; I won a lot for my love,
however I also lost a lot too.
He came into my life and swept me off my feet.
However, two years later I suddenly woke up on the ground,
not knowing what time I’d even landed.
Growing up in a broken home,
I knew that when I grew up I wanted to find love –
I wanted it to be perfect love
and an endless love, because when you’re little and afraid,
you grow up dreaming that perfect love is real.
Then at the age of thirty and on the other side of innocence,
you become disillusioned.
Real love can never be perfect;
real love is fragile, sometimes a little damaged too.
Real love is both your favourite song on a beautiful summer’s day,
as well as a cold night of camping out in the middle of a forest without a torch.
Love can even be lonely.
People express love in different ways:
I want the entire world to know when I’m in love,
through my art
through my conversations.
People don’t stay in love and so leave you behind;
leave you wondering when you suddenly started seeing the back of their heads
as opposed to the eyes you thought you knew so well.
Love is not always enough either.
On my worst days, I grow fearful
of that thought.
The Bible says that love covers a multitude of sins,
however can it cover a multitude of indentations?
In the romantic comedies, love conquers all,
it overpowers every evil of the world.
In real life unfortunately,
it doesn’t ever seem to be enough.