Love again. This love thing sometimes drives me nuts. Because most people immediately think of romantic love, between a man and a woman, between people of the same sex. Still romantic. And yes it's a powerful feeling. But how are we supposed to stop loving when things fail to remain the same? Or worse still, when the object of our affection is suddenly out of reach? In basic English, what about broken love? Because while love grows slowly inch by inch (no I don't think there is something as love at first sight, but lust at first sight), we are expected to pull out the plug on love. As if it never happened. And that's tough. How is that even possible? You are suddenly thrown into the downward spiral of trying to understand what went wrong, how it went wrong. And it comes accompanied by a deep sense of feeling lost. Because you want to try to understand. The truth is, there will be no understanding. Not when someone breaks your faith after many years. There is no magic potion to mend a broken heart. And you miss the laugh, the smiles, the voice, the empty space in your bed. The bed. That's a whole other thing. Beds are made to lie in, to close your eyes in, to dream in. They spell trouble, because it makes the realisation all the more poignant. And there are different ways to lose a love. But only one way to make it through. Let them go, let them fly.
P.S. No I haven't lost a love just now. But I have loved and lost too. So I know, I really do.
P.S. No I haven't lost a love just now. But I have loved and lost too. So I know, I really do.
