Vas Ist Liebe
And so the writer asked the words one last time, to define love. His eyes tired, and soul falling asleep at the wheel, he has not the strength to reach for it, while headed over a cliff. He falls to find nothing. The absolute and all knowing, while altogether unimportant and unnatural, unfit, and otherwise unfelt. The writer looks upon his stories and sees all that cheats the very words he's spoke. And somewhere, over there, between the lines, in her eyes. He almost finds it once again. Love is not about the prison, and so many people put themselves in it. Love sets you free, when all the world is holding you back. True love is about liberation, total faith, blindly fighting for a future uncertain. And he says... "My love is all I truly can give." In the end, when all is gone and the worlds come to an end, all you need to know, is who was there. Life, the great stories, and dreams we have with it. Though they take the paths of many, they only wind back around to find exactly what you needed. And love is about truly needing someone, it's about the oxygen you breath, lingering off every kiss, that keeps you alive in that moment where everything finally makes sense. It's having the best friend you could possibly ever need. The final witness, to the book of self, and being interested enough to read the book of someone else. Life is a story, constantly being written by a hand beyond our own. And the quest is not about finding forever, but choosing it. Making the choice to be a reader half the time, and write with the rest. It's about the blind faith, and clarity of disbanding all doubt in the light of those you surround yourself with, and those that you CHOOSE to keep around. True love, true romance, true forever, is about absolute sacrifice, connection, faith, and most of all comfort. And he says..."Our love was comfortable... We chased around parking lots, bathed in the rain, slept with the stars, and all just to do it over and over again." Forever is about waking up next to someone for the rest of your life. It's about knowing, seeing, and hearing it every time your around each other. And so the writer reads back only to see that his doubt was his greatest sin against love, and that which was meant for him. Love is not about what you can have or what you want, it's about what you're willing to do anything to have. It's about the last first kiss you ever want, it's about the only person you see in a crowded room, it's about the look in your eyes, the sincerity in your words, the care in your touch. It's about giving everything up, just to have that which is all you've ever needed. It about compromise, and consideration. It's late night conversations, good nights, good mornings, and even good afternoons, it's about constant presence in one another's lives. It's a story, your story, set to fire, unwritten, rewrote, and every page no matter how small or large, has that person's face on it. And he says..."She is why I wake up, what I sleep to dream about, and all that is... Without a doubt." So many people enter and leave our lives, pain, suffering, lies, insecurities, and the space inside each and every one of us, that just wants to feel loved. Love is your best friend in the world. So many people get trapped, in the idea, that they don't allow the actual act. Love is a house full of people... It's your hand being held at all times, pulling you forward, leading the way, or just walking side by side along the ocean of life. It's about all the people that have come in the way, taught you the way, and led the way for something great, and out of the ordinary... Something real... Something you can hold in your hands, and never let go. It's the day, before God and the whole world, that you apologize for every time, that it wasn't spent with them. It's the corner stone that holds your foundation. It's the wind beneath your wings. It's the home your orphaned soul has been needing all your life. It's not about all the places you've been, it's about where you've always belonged. It's about being tired, of always being alone... Love is hell in the gates heaven without them. Love is giving up forever, just so you can have them by your side, for how ever long you can. Forever is the choice, to choose, and how you've finally chose something to truly fight for. Love is about the fights, the failures, the falsities, the forgotten, and future, that in spite of all that is wrong, you work towards. True love is raw, without ornamentation, it just is, no explanation, no reason, no expectation, just love. It's pure, and it only clears, never confuses. And the writer, thinks over all he's seen, and says... If love is true, then all we can do is show it to one another. No matter what, everyday, is acting in the redemption of all that has happened before. It's about changing, growing, learning, and redefining all that makes up your life and how you wanna spend it love that person. And he says... "All my words, all my thoughts, all that has been me... Was for you."