Love Shmove.

I hate that stupid shit, love.I hate memories, I hate moving on, I hate letting go.Going through all of it. Can someone please tell me, what’s the point? All it does is traumatize. No wonder people are so afraid to fall in love. It’s possibly the worst emotion we are capable of feeling or giving. Because once it’s gone, you just wanna rip your hair out and cry or crawl under a rock and never get out from under it. Finding old notes you wrote to them, having those stupid glimpses, seeing couples holding hands and being reminded of the warm ones that never left yours.

Love is such a vague word. No one knows what it is, and yet the term gets thrown around like it’s nothing. Love has 398587 different meanings. People say it to acquaintances everyday, to friends they barely know. To boyfriends and girlfriends they’ve known for a week, and break up after a week. I personally hate it. It can drive a person mad, to the point where they can’t even function anymore. To the point where they would turn down every person in the world if it meant saving themselves from love. I finally get the cliché saying: “love is a drug”. I finally see it. See, when you have it, you feel like you’re on top of the world, like nothing can stop you. The best feeling in the world. But when it’s gone, you’re miserable. Like you can’t live without it, and you don’t even want to think how you would. And if you’ve never had it before, you just crave the feeling, wishing you could just have it even for a second. Curiosity’s a bitch.

Pre-love; that’s all giggles and warm fuzzy feelings. The way your face just lifts up when you receive a message from them, how anything they say sounds better than anything in the whole world. Suddenly the music they listen to is the only music you have in your head. And before you know it, you can’t stop thinking about them for a second. Every little thing reminds you of them and those cute things they do and say to you. You want to spend every second with them, maybe the rest of your life. Even if you’re only fifteen.

Post-love; that’s when the fights start, when everything they say is just so mean and shitty and you wish they weren’t so oblivious to your emotions. Communication becomes mission impossible. It’s when they stop caring or making an effort. When suddenly everything they do gets on your nerves. Every little thing reminds you of them and all those times you cried and felt miserable. And all you want is to just go back to that time when everything was perfect and beautiful, but it’s impossible.

It’s too late. Everything’s done. Even weeks later you want to tackle any girl who even looks or talks to him, who brushes their hand on his shoulder and laughs. But you can’t. They aren’t yours anymore. Not your baby, or snookems, or whatever. You love them so much you hate them. Even the sound of their name makes your stomach churn. And it all drives you insane because as much as you loathe that person, you want nothing more than to just be with them and hold their hand and tell them everything’s going to be okay.