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Love—the overnight blooming flower surprisingly it doesn’t do all the things we want it to. It makes us suffer and cry and wish for the most awful of things upon ourselves. Love is walking a thin string that you must balance high enough away from the burning candle below that is your passion. If love comes too close to passion the string burns and you’ve said too much. Love begins and ends so quickly its hard to even imagine. Love is over dramatic and it makes me wish I couldn’t forget that force in my head. Lets fight for what we believe in. Leave kicking and screaming putting up the fight of our lives. Misery loves us all but it is those that overcome it that are strongest. Folding before the fallout we are stung over and over by love and yet we realize how much it is worth. True love, a dance between two that understand each other so completely. Perhaps I just don’t know how to dance with anyone. The only sympathy anyone seems to feel for me is by wanting me to crawl into bed with them. If that is the true dance of love then I want none of it. I’m no good with words but this is all I can say. The things they say are like a forked tongue turned honey on my lips. I just can’t seem to find anything worth loving and being loved by.