"Don't love him!" they screamed. But they choked on their words, on their own vile hipocracy rising up from their chests. There was no love there. AndΒ I was disgusted with those complaints, and the bitterΒ words of my father resounded in my heart. No, I would never love the way you "loved".
A love like my brother's was the love I strived after. A love so pure, innocent, and profound. True. And it was through this realization that I recognized my fault. Not through orders from those insincere in their own actions. I search for that beautiful, God-given love, but the faith I had clung to so tightly is slipping away, through my now feeble grasp. Still I will never love the way he did; nor engage in such a love.