Why do you insist on hurting me?
Why do you always pretend you have no idea why I’m angry?
Do you think it feels good to be ignored?
Do you think its fun to tell someone you love them, and then fuck with their emotions?
Is this all a game to you?
How much more direct, do I have to be?
When will you see things from my perspective?
Why are you playing dumb?
Or do I mean that little to you?
Is everything you’ve told me, a lie?
You have drained me.
I have nothing left to give.
You have hurt me so much in the past few weeks.
And I am confused.
What you say and what you do, don’t match.
I don’t think it ever did.
I’ve tried so hard to be patient with you.
I’ve always been there for you, when you were down.
But where are you, when I need you?
You always put me last.
I am always your last priority.
Do you understand how that makes me feel?
I don’t think you do.
I thought you and I connected.
We did. At one stage.
We both had the same purple aura.
We both had the same visions of the future.
We both wanted the same fucking thing.
So, what happened?
It’s tumultuous. It’s complicated. It’s bloody hard. There is passion and intensity like no other. The emotions felt, are real, yet somewhat dream like. It isn’t for the faint hearted. It makes the heart and mind fight against each other. Makes them battle out what is logical and what isn’t. None of that matters. It is always clear the winner is going to be the heart.
It melts away the problems. It melts away all the bad thoughts in the mind. It can even heal to an extent. It makes the mind think of the future. What it may hold. What possibilities there are. A fruitful future. A happy one. It makes the visions, pink. Like in a field of tulips. Free. Liberated. Warm.
It makes the mind go crazy. It brings in sadness, heartache and madness. It makes the mind think of stupid shit. Shit that normally doesn’t matter. It questions the soul and feelings. Is that a logical thought? Is the future realistic? Does it seem like it would be a possibility? So many questions. But no answers. The answers are hidden. Hidden in the passion. The redness of the passion, like a small red Cartier box, hides the answers that it seeks.
But it builds. It passes that phase. It builds to a crescendo that unravels all the secrets. The lid of the box opens, and it finds what it needs. It comes to an understanding, not a stand still, an emotional truce. Between the heart and mind. That’s the moment, it flourishes. It thrives. It gains momentum, and every single question ever raised, goes out the window. All of a sudden, it becomes annulled. It doesn’t matter anymore. Because in the end, the heart gets what it wants.
True love. True passion. Realistic love. That’s all that matters. Love always wins. No matter how hard or complicated it may be. It always finds a way to win the argument. It always finds a way to win over the mind.