And then there are those that attempt to destroy love.
But Love is resilient…
So is this thing about falling in love about survival?
You must make yourself hard of heart to live? Or to beat down the feeling so that the heart is nothing but a dried-up shell?
Why do we always blame love…ourselves? Should we not blame the one who seeks to destroy all that is beautiful? Love is at the same time fragile and as strong as a warrior…
The fight of the warrior should be to fight protecting the object of his love…and not to fight to protect only it’s very existence.
Love will always exist…it will just leave.
I think love for the most part is a traveler…. Looking for a place to land.
Guns are deadly if found in the wrong hands…
Same holds true for the human heart.
I know I should not say this…but some people do not deserve love…but none the less. They get it anyway..
Maybe more so than the ones that do.
“He found an unsuspecting victim and casually ripped her heart from its cage…
Bit into it and tossed it into the pile….
He laughed manically….
I do this all in the name of love he said…
His unsuspecting victims were many.”
Taken from my previous manuscript…
”The Maniac”
This type of damage can turn an otherwise open and hopeful person into a killer.
In other words…the human heart in the wrong hands can destroy love.
Or the existence of it for that person…
Love will always exist…but it is fluid…all encompassing…it will simply leave.
The sad part for the victim…is that love can be seen..heard…but completely unreachable…
They try to go back to their previous state but cant.
So they move forward…into all that is offered…a bleak and endless void…
looking for the scraps and pieces of broken hearts on the ground…
Trying to piece them together to make some semblance of what was…
But only to have an ugly mosaic of the past…
Trying desperately to reach the future thru the past is a type of impossibility that leads to a type of insanity.
Like a type of hell…they see love in others…but cannot reach it…
Simply because they do not want to…
So they look for the trampled pieces of discarded hearts…examining them for what is salvageable…
And pretending to love what is in their hands…all the while hating their very existence.
Angry that love will not save them from pain…
Because they lack the ability to sacrifice…
The very thing love needs to exist...
It's all in the details...