We Call it, true love.
It lifts you up.
It blooms bright crimson on innocent faces,
lightens the complexion of many to a satisfying glow.
It sears into your brain a feeling of safety, comfort, and
covers yours eyes from the glaring reality with secure rose colored
lens.
True love. It eats away your fears, caution, and reserve.
Tears down the adult and returns you to a state of childlike wonder,
trust and utter devotion. Once you return to that state it's almost impossible to climb back down from that incredibly heightened state.
To regress back to an adult. True love doesn't make you forget reality.
It provides a pleasant distraction from it.
We'll remember all too well what realities we've face before it, and what we'll return to it after. Like children we wish to hold on to the hope of lasting love, lasting…true..love.
It sounds bettering saying it slowly. Savoring the words 'true' and 'love' together. The word 'Lasting' being the icing on the cake. Yet, it becomes darker.
Not everyone is worthy of love, and not everyone needs love or at least thinks they do. We call it, being realistic. Realistic thinking is a true love killer. In our hearts we should harbor a secret wish, one never said allowed but understood. "We want true love," that should be in the breast of every man and woman in the world.
I wish it were. We are feeling creatures, and that's because we're human. Humanity is all about feelings, experiencing, hurting, burning and yearning. Companionship, friendship, lovers, lusts, affairs, divorce, it's all describing the complexities of one simple word, we call it, Love.