Love = Fear.

Words from a book I’ll never write:

You know something went wrong when love began to scare you instead of comfort you. You began to question whether you deserved it, you began to question whether you could live up to the meaning of the word. You remember how, as a child, some four-lettered words were banned from your vocabulary but love had never been one of them. Now those four-lettered words don’t hurt you but love hurts more than those words ever did.

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Love?

Butterflies in your stomach, heart thudding away wildly in your chest, a million thoughts running through your mind: is this what love is really supposed to feel like? Is this right? Is this it? Then why is it that all that I feel with you is calm and happy, like I belong in your arms and nowhere else, and still say I love you? Then why is that every time you smile, my body automatically responds with joy and not nervous blushing, and still I say I love you? Then why is it that the butterflies in my stomach are quiet, my heart is calm, and I have only one thought and that thought is that I love you? I have none of the fears and qualms of the unknown, but all of the comforts of a home. Tell me then, is this not love?

shopping for love.

I was the dress that looked good on the rack of the store
and fit you just right in the trial room.
And then, out in public, you wore me again, but you didn’t like it
and so you left me in a corner on your shelf and forgot me.
One day,
you found me,
still waiting,
and you picked me up and wondered
why you’d picked me up at all.
You threw me away that day
and I realised then that I waited in the corner but
you don’t want to wear me again.

-flightless bird.