I know that it was ******* love
And that fact alone lifts me up.
To know I'm capable of extraordinary emotion.
But also knowing you may only have one great love
Is such a terrible let down.
To think the word love was wasted
On someone who inevitably
Was incapable of reciprocation.
It tares me up
To think you only have one love.
That reaches the depth of the ocean
And soars through mountains.
Maybe it was but infatuation.
Possession is not a product of love.
It pretty much leads to hating each other's guts.
Like a middle school crush.
High school lust.
All of it is a rush.
I guess it's all about choice.
And choosing the right wave to dive into.
Not letting yourself be cast away.
But finding someone who will sway your boat
Steadily back to shore.