Love is a dismal word. Its cold, and uncaring. Why should it care though, its so widely used these days that it bares no meaning. I’ve said it half a dozen times. And every time I swore to god I meant it. And every time they believed me. They took my word for it, hell, they all said it back too. And I just smiled crookedly and kept on doing what I was doing. I never had a shred of remorse. I never flinched. I could keep a straight face with a five high hand. I never even let on that I was lying.
You’re looking for a love story, maybe a chase in order to get the girl I’ve been striving and yearning after my whole life. But I can tell you now, that’s not what you’re getting yourself into. Instead I have strategically planned out a twisted tail in hopes that you’ll follow along and find something that you are familiar with. But even in the case that you don’t, that everything you read in my jambalaya of words is totally off base with everything that you’re looking for, I hope you have a good laugh, or a good cry.
I don’t want to get to off track though, lets go back to love. The word, in essence, is a metaphor for the human condition. It’s a total sham, a crook and a lie. At least that’s all I’ve ever seen. Between parents lying to each other, high school sweethearts, and the tails of misfortune that you read in magazines and the newspaper, I, like you, grew up in a word surrounded by a lie possessing what we wish love could be. It’s a terribly depressing thing, love is, that we all most feel like we’ve succumb to the social pressure of love.
We all want to feel needed, that’s something that I personally have been striving myself to avoid, strictly based upon the fact that I know what I become, who I become when I need to feel needed. We all get that urge sometimes, to do what ever you can to get someone to just say that they love, because you are in love with instant gratification. One simple word can dictate our feeling of remorse, and turn it upside down, and make it into something it simply isn’t.
It’s a terrible addiction that we’ve all acquired. You can disagree, you could just put this short few sheets of dead trees away, but inside, somewhere, sometime, you’ve agreed with me. I want you to dig down as deep as you can and realize that simple fact. Just please, listen, for a second. I want you to feel what I’m saying as if coming from your own mouth. I want you to know for a fact that the love that you feel for someone is simple a lie that you’ve built around guilt to shelter yourself from further damage.
I’m sure there is someone out there that has found the actual love, the true love as some might say. I don’t know the actually polls, the actual facts. But, in my book, all I ever see is a silhouette, a shadow if you will, of that love. Something bigger then it really is, something darker, colder. I want you to feel passionate is all. That is all.