Feels like the First time...
Love seems to me to be the most painful and perfect thing on this earth. Love will take the worst of days and make it a little bit sweet, and love will change everything you think about yourself, and love will leave you hardened and empty, a forgotten orange peel. But what scares me the most about love is the immediate absence you can feel when it is ripped away from you, the deep hollow that steals itself into your lungs, making it difficult to breathe. That saying about love lost is only true in hindsight, after a significant period of time has passed and you have accepted the fact that they are gone. Primarily, when they are first absent from your every day life, and you check your cell every three minutes in the hopes that they have called you to reconcile, the loss of love is too great a burden to bear. You begin to see that love has manifested itself in all the things you see and do, the sheets on your bed where the scent of him still lingers, his forgotten toothbrush on your bathroom sink, a lonely walk on a familiar road. When everything around you holds a seperate meaning with him than apart. That is the time when love scares me the most, yet when love is the most powerful. Here, in this hell-abyss of relived memories and salted tears, love will be the run in your stockings and the glitter in your eyeshadow. Love is not a want but a need.