I love too hard, I know I do. I love until it’s more important than…well, more important than me.
I love for keeps. I love until I’m too bruised to be of any use to myself.
That is not love. (No, I won't break car windows, or stalk anyone)
I don’t know how to love without squeezing the life out of it. I run full force, crashing into the walls people build to protect themselves. I run until I'm tired and bruised and breathless; cry until my eyes are swollen. I don’t stop until I am too broken to not stop.
Mine is not a healthy way to love.
I find myself spent and having surrendered in the ashes. And the love I suffered over had been protected in their protective walls. They awaken to find only embers where a lover had been standing, unattended. The loss seems sudden and unfair.
So I can share the only thing I know for sure…
No one should thrash against protective glass. The only one who hears you is you.
Oh, and don’t mistake suffering for love. The suffering, that’s life.
