Love can be cruel. You’re falling apart, drowning in your own tears, wondering where you went wrong and the damned thing still gives hope. Your wrist is cut, your mascara smeared all over, your head is dizzy and the damned thing will still not let you let it go. You are wearing long sleeves to hide the pain, smiling to convince someone that you’re fine, and saying that you’re over him, but it will still make your eyes look around for him. Love can be poisonous. It will kill you before you get a chance to think about what has happened. You will be falling to the ground, your eyes closing, giving into the darkness, and it will be the reason why. It’s not fun. It really is not.
But it is worth it.
The butterflies in your stomach, the rush of blood in your cheeks, and the constant urges to hug him tell you so. Every time you kiss him as the sun sets, every time you hold his hand just to have something to hold onto, every time you shed tears but the pillow does not get wet because he is there, you will know it is worth it. As you have sex on the terrace, drink wine on the seventieth date, and just look at each other with awe, you will know its worth it. When you listen to tapes of old music, make out in the car, or just stay together in silence, you will know that it’s worth everything that could go wrong.
Love can be cruel, and it can be sweet. You will get a taste of both. You will feel the mixed colours of darkness and light and the strange things it leaves behind. You will see the clouds darken, the weather worsening as a storm comes, but you will find peace in the rain in chaos it brings. You will see it as a poison you so desperately needed to get away from a more vicious world. You will be broken, but you’ll also be happy. You will be grey.
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