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Rated: E · Appendix · Gay/Lesbian · #831886
can two survive, together
Love? Attempting to define the term, the emotion, the feeling is no more possible than counting the stars in the nightly sky. Adages and tunes pronounce what love is and what it can do, catchy some and they ring inside our heads, playing by themselves it seems when we call them from our memories. 'love will find a way', 'love will keep us together', 'i honestly love you', 'drowning in the sea of love', 'it must be love', 'when you love someone', they go on and on and on and on.

Do I love you? More than can be imagined and surely not defineable here or by words that can be pulled from this mind. But just as elusive is the definition of such is a solution to what the two of us can be together, how to solve what is wrong with us, we. How do two find happiness when so different do the minds work? When desires for what constitutes the pot of gold for each, their happy ending, is not the same, and the roads to each lead to different journeys, paths away? Compromise? Easy solution, tendered much by so called experts but viable? Can one give up what they are, who they are, their inner soul, to make another happy? When each needs so much and not capable is the other of providing it, does one settle and take what one gets, smile, look the other way, pretend that satisfaction has been met? How many cuts can we take, how many blows will knock us off our feet, bruise us until we are nothing more than shells of what we once were?

When I see black and you see gray, when you say love and I hear control, can we ever, really, combine me and you into we? Can the disrespect, the silent days, the tempest nights go away? Can two, so different, ever become one? When does it become too much, too hard to try?

Your vision of me and mine of you are not what they seem and impossible, it seems, for either to understand the other. When I say love and you see ignorance, when you see green and I find red, how can we ever unite, together? To leave it behind frightens and tossed upon the waters of panic does the prospect lead. But each sunrise says it must be so for this life we lead now hurts you, hurts me. No more sure am I of my way now than of that statement for I, and not simply it be, can't release it now, not yet, if ever.

Left with no course but to stare into the mirror, fret, and ponder.
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