i found this buried in my documents, labeled "love"....
and now i want to know, what the fuck is this and who the fuck am i.
I stare at the photograph on the wall, the one I stole from a house in our last raid, and I hate how, even in the darkness, I know it’s him. The picture is just a face, blackened and blurred by the dim cold light of dawn. No one would be sure, nobody would bet their lives on it, but I know (I know) that it’s him. And I hate myself for that knowledge because it confirms what I had so adamantly denied to myself for the longest time. That I loved him, that I still do. I don’t know, when do love and like and lust meet? And is there a point where it becomes an obsession? If so, am I there yet?
There is a popular belief that says, love conquers all. We fill the minds of our children with this, telling them love will save their souls, but we’re wrong. Love can work miracles, yes, but the part we are forgetting is the fact that miracles are not your every-day activity. So what about when love dies? When all else fails. Should we teach our children about the oasis or about the desert that spreads for miles?
I stare at the photograph on the wall, the one I stole from a house in our last raid, and I hate how, even in the darkness, I know it’s him. The picture is just a face, blackened and blurred by the dim cold light of dawn. No one would be sure, nobody would bet their lives on it, but I know (I know) that it’s him. And I hate myself for that knowledge because it confirms what I had so adamantly denied to myself for the longest time. That I loved him, that I still do. I don’t know, when do love and like and lust meet? And is there a point where it becomes an obsession? If so, am I there yet?
There is a popular belief that says, love conquers all. We fill the minds of our children with this, telling them love will save their souls, but we’re wrong. Love can work miracles, yes, but the part we are forgetting is the fact that miracles are not your every-day activity. So what about when love dies? When all else fails. Should we teach our children about the oasis or about the desert that spreads for miles?