Status: TLO take 3
The Lucky Ones
Prologue
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To many people, love is a completely foreign concept.
For many of us, love stays an unknown feeling. Because desire and affection are often mistaken for love. Don’t misunderstand me. There is nothing wrong with desire or affection. But love, true love, is a very rare thing. It’s rare, yet it is not simple. Because with great love inevitably comes great loss.
With love come a lot of problems and a lot of trouble. A lot of heartache, and a lot of tears. Trust me, I should know.
Love - real, true love – is never peaceful and quiet. Love is anger, love is fury, love is jealousy and all those ugly things that you never knew you had in you. All those ugly things that you never wish to show the world again. Trust me. I should know that, too.
Love is being awake at 4 AM wondering what the hell you did wrong. Love is staring for hours at a phone that won’t ring. Love is roaming the streets of an unknown town under the pouring rain, trying to figure out why it has to hurt so much.
Love is like a drug. You don’t like what it makes of you, but you needed it too much to let it go. You’re an addict.
Love is losing yourself a thousand times, with absolutely no prospect of finding yourself again.
It is up to you to decide if what you gain is worth what you lose.
Personally, I have the tendency to say that love is always worth it. But that is only because deep inside, I am an incurable romantic.
Love is hurt and love is pain. But love is also the most precious thing on this earth. It makes you see everything in a different light. It makes everything shine so much brighter. That’s the true magic of it all. Love is standing on top of the world, it’s seeing the sun rise at 6 in the morning, it’s the most brilliant gig you’ve ever been to.
Love is being alive.
I was lucky enough to find a love like that.
But then, being the jerk that I am, I obviously fucked everything up.
To many people, love is a completely foreign concept.
For many of us, love stays an unknown feeling. Because desire and affection are often mistaken for love. Don’t misunderstand me. There is nothing wrong with desire or affection. But love, true love, is a very rare thing. It’s rare, yet it is not simple. Because with great love inevitably comes great loss.
With love come a lot of problems and a lot of trouble. A lot of heartache, and a lot of tears. Trust me, I should know.
Love - real, true love – is never peaceful and quiet. Love is anger, love is fury, love is jealousy and all those ugly things that you never knew you had in you. All those ugly things that you never wish to show the world again. Trust me. I should know that, too.
Love is being awake at 4 AM wondering what the hell you did wrong. Love is staring for hours at a phone that won’t ring. Love is roaming the streets of an unknown town under the pouring rain, trying to figure out why it has to hurt so much.
Love is like a drug. You don’t like what it makes of you, but you needed it too much to let it go. You’re an addict.
Love is losing yourself a thousand times, with absolutely no prospect of finding yourself again.
It is up to you to decide if what you gain is worth what you lose.
Personally, I have the tendency to say that love is always worth it. But that is only because deep inside, I am an incurable romantic.
Love is hurt and love is pain. But love is also the most precious thing on this earth. It makes you see everything in a different light. It makes everything shine so much brighter. That’s the true magic of it all. Love is standing on top of the world, it’s seeing the sun rise at 6 in the morning, it’s the most brilliant gig you’ve ever been to.
Love is being alive.
I was lucky enough to find a love like that.
But then, being the jerk that I am, I obviously fucked everything up.
© Thomas Livingston – The Lucky Ones, 2010