If you had asked me,
“What is love?”
a few months, or maybe years ago,
I would have said,
“Love is beautiful and fills your empty glass.
It is good morning and sweet dreams texts
with a ‘How are you’ during the day.
Love is putting someone before yourself,
and them putting you on the top shelf.
It ties your insides into knots, puts an extra shine in your eyes,
and allows you to glow just a little brighter than the sun.
It’s bittersweet like your favorite coffee
and soothing like chamomile tea.
It’s laughing until your ribs crack, but
kissing until you’re better.
Love is staying up late talking
and waking up tangled together.”
But if you ask me,
“What is love?” now,
I can tell you,
“Love is awful and drains every inch of you.
It’s giving all you got until you’re exhausted
and receiving little to nothing in return.
Love pulls the rug out beneath you
and laughs as you crash into the floor face first.
It burns your throat like tequila
and pops your lungs like balloons.
Love is arguing and crying all night
and waking up alone.”
So tell me,
What is love?
Because I’m walking a tightrope between the two sides
believing the one and knowing the other,
but all together
love is wonderfully painful,
and we only notice one half at a time.
-I want to love and be loved, but I don’t seem to know what it is anymore (via anothertragichero)