Love is a road.
Love is a road.
A long, winding road overlooking beautiful scenery. Seaside cliffs. Snow-capped mountains. Blinding city skylines. On the road of love, there's even beauty in vast nothingness that stretches on for miles, the kind where they have to warn you that the run-down gas station in front of you is the last one for so many miles.
Love is a road on which you are forced to travel twice.
The first time around, the journey is incredible, a voyage for the ages that should never, ever end.
And you leave pieces of yourself along the way, as beacons of light and a guide in case you ever need to find your way back.
And you will. Because that beautiful road on which you are travelling will eventually meet a dead end. And you're forced to turn around and re-travel that road. Alone.
And the second journey isn't incredible. You want it to end. It's painful.
You're forced to drive past that same scenery that was once so beautiful, but is now tainted and painted a different color by your broken heart. And along the way, you'll pick up those pieces of yourself that you left along the way.
And eventually, you'll reach the end of the road that was once the beginning. And it will really be a beginning again. Because once you're at that place, you can tuck away those pieces of yourself that you're holding in your hand and learn from them and the journey that you just took and start a new one.
Love is a road on which you will travel again.
A long, winding road overlooking beautiful scenery. Seaside cliffs. Snow-capped mountains. Blinding city skylines. On the road of love, there's even beauty in vast nothingness that stretches on for miles, the kind where they have to warn you that the run-down gas station in front of you is the last one for so many miles.
Love is a road on which you are forced to travel twice.
The first time around, the journey is incredible, a voyage for the ages that should never, ever end.
And you leave pieces of yourself along the way, as beacons of light and a guide in case you ever need to find your way back.
And you will. Because that beautiful road on which you are travelling will eventually meet a dead end. And you're forced to turn around and re-travel that road. Alone.
And the second journey isn't incredible. You want it to end. It's painful.
You're forced to drive past that same scenery that was once so beautiful, but is now tainted and painted a different color by your broken heart. And along the way, you'll pick up those pieces of yourself that you left along the way.
And eventually, you'll reach the end of the road that was once the beginning. And it will really be a beginning again. Because once you're at that place, you can tuck away those pieces of yourself that you're holding in your hand and learn from them and the journey that you just took and start a new one.
Love is a road on which you will travel again.