Love is Madness

"there is always some madness in love. but there is also always some reason in madness"
-nietzsche

"love is a devil"
-shakespeare

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"i love you," she says. tears are flowing like streams down her cheek, and i know that the lie i am about to tell is my only way out of the hole i have dug to the center of this little tear in the universe.

"i love you too," but, again, it is a lie. this affair holds no love. it is just a rip in my current reality. a selfish escape from my day-to-day. love, i think, is useless here. 

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it's hard to imagine where all this began. this idea that i have two loves. always one hand to hold. always one heart to break upon the rocks.

but i think looking into her eyes (lie), this is my destiny. 

she says, "do you love me?"

"yes," i say. this time, years later it is truth.

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distance is a killer of understanding. the further away the less you have to share with another person. the less you have to share, the less you have to know.

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i remember hearing a song that meant love only to know it meant nothing when she was no longer around.

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"what do i think of love." i say, repeating her question as a statement of my own. i know exactly how to answer this question, it is rehearsed. it is on the tip of my tongue, but i can't bring myself to answer truthfully and i say, "i don't know."

it is an easy way out, but thinking about it now, it's also a killer of time that could be had.

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she is kissing me and it is the best experience of my life. it's perfect.

passionate, yet fully intimate.

it is the first time i understand just how important the act is, it is the first time i feel that love is more than words. that it can be more than soft compassion.

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time ticks by. i know that i am running out of any remaining sand in the hourglass in my mind.

slowly it's draining.

slowly i am drifting.

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she said to me over the phone, "i think we should see other people."

i smiled, and sarcastically, i said, "look around. they're every where."

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love is madness.

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everyday i think of three people. one who knows i love. one who used to know, but at this point wants me dead. one who lives in the dark.

i can't say what love is. because it is no singular emotion. it is a chameleon, taking on different shapes to fit the people of our lives into what we see them as.

on one hand it is the person we are balanced with, the "yin to my yang" scenario.

then there is the love that you passed up on. the one who broke your heart, or the one you left abandoned on the side of the road screaming your name in sadness or despair but still filled with a misunderstood love.

and always, there is the one who you love but cannot be in love with because of so many under(lying) reasons. the one who is perfect for you in understanding. or by definition.

but love, for me doesn't fit into a box. it's is not pandora's little chest of curiosities.

i know what love means to me.

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it is life.


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it is infinite