Thursday, November 1, 2012

perpetual hurt bar

"I don't love you like you love me."

Some words no one wants to hear, at least not really. And not really while sitting at a dive, with a bartender named Mandy and grizzled, jowl-jawed construction workers off the clock scattered around you while you clench a tall can of PBR.
The concept of love and all the things it does and doesn't mean really showed themselves out this past year. Love is a choice, and while you can't always help who you love, you certainly can choose on how to follow up and act on it. If you're able to insert some rationality, that is. Build me up, break me down, build you up, break you down. It's going to take some cultivating, and while the honeymoon period won't last forever, if you love them and you're willing and able to try mentally/emotionally/physically, then you really are choosing love.

It just might not choose you back. Didn't choose me back. Somehow, call me functioning with a big helping of perpetual hurt.