Love is quite the beast indeed.
At one point, I kind of had my own ideas of what I thought the reality of love was and its blissful beautiful nature.
Once I saw what love looked like; I wanted it.
Once I thought I knew what love felt like; I was infatuated with it.
Once I experienced losing love; naturally I hated it.
Once I realized that I was too inadequate to be loved; I avoided it
Once I watched fate actually bring me love; I embraced it.
Once I felt the lasting bonds and the sensation of real love; I couldn't imagine being without it.
But now, now that I'm witnessing the ignorance of fear and the destruction it can bring to love; I despise it. With every fiber of my being I despise ever falling in love. I despise the feelings that made me want to connect with another human being on such a deep level. I despise the images and preconceived notions I had of love as a fool.
Now that I see what can be done to love; I fear it.
Now that I see what can come from love, I hate it.
Now that I see my ignorance for what it is, nonsensical fairy tales and happy endings. Ignorance can only be bliss if you never become aware and sadly I have become aware. I've become aware of love and its incredibly fragile, ugly and corruptible nature.
However, it’s too late. Although I've become painfully aware of this truth I can't resist it. Now that I've experienced love and the pain that follows, I want nothing more but to continue to experience love.
That’s mad. I'm mad, I'm mad, I'm mad, I know!
But what is life alone? A sad existence of longing and overwhelming self-hatred for being unloved? I don't want that! I want more than anything to once again experience love.
If that makes me mad then so be it. If I must be mad in order to be happy then so be it. What a thought that is!
In a way, you could say that our entire existence is mad then; like love. Absolutely mad. As individuals we strive to be different by following ever so slightly off base, we are so complex yet at the core we are the same. We start off so pure but can become so easily corrupted through this life that we try so desperately to hold on to. We put ourselves in the spotlight time and time again after being knocked down and expect things to be different. Through and through we make poor decisions in hopes that something magical will happen. Much like love we give so much and can receive almost nothing in return but yet we still give to our undoing. From every form of chaos we endure, we justify why it made us stronger. Even in tragedy, we can be so beautiful. That’s why now, my opinion has changed on what I think love is.
I believe that love, in all reality is truly chaotic in nature.