The Element of True, Incandescent, Artificial Happiness

It is said that to love and lose is better than not loving at all. You didn't agree with that statement. Love was too fleeting, too momentous, died too easily for you to believe it was ever true. You thought no one could ever change you, and 'no one' came, in form of a man, wormed his way into your heart and took all your beliefs, all your defences and threw them out to sea. And then told you he loved you, something that would have made you snort in disgust, instead, you felt the flutteriest feeling in your stomach and—the audacity—told him you loved him too. You two basked in each other's love for nearly five months before he brought down the hammer. He didn't love you, he was trying to make this other girl jealous but—before you let him finish his sorry excuse, you ran away, tears streaming down your face and legs going as far as they can. Not too long after your legs gave out and you broke down, crying your heart out by a tree.

So do you believe in love? Yes you do, you've felt it before. Do you believe love's gentle? No, the outcome betrays the meaning and the meaning betrayed your trust. You don't think you'll ever love again but…fate has this way of tricking you into it again. And fate played the biggest prank and you found yourself walking the aisle and saying your vows.

Problem is, you didn't love him just as much as he loved you. But it was convenient, he wouldn't hurt you, he would take care of you and you hoped that, with time, you would love him back. And he, your first love, first everything, never left your thoughts, but you let him go, wishing him all the happiness, because that's what love is, wishing for somebody else's happiness above your own, above everything. It is the ultimate sacrifice of soul. Love is a beautiful thing, like a rose, but you have to be careful, it's got thorns.


Something I wrote to befit something I painted in Art.

Any thoughts on this?