The death of love
Love in its natural state is eternal but not immortal. Love can die if it is killed. And there are so many ways to kill it. For something so strong it can also be very fragile. We know a thousand ways to kill it, whether slow or fast. We strangle it with chains and drown it with resentment. It freezes with indifference and with long silences. It is poisoned with lies and selfishness. It starves when it lacks hugs, sweet words and caresses. It is beaten to death with irresponsibility, disrespect and cruelty. The sad truth is that we are born trained assassins. Some of us fight against the darkness that is lurking within us, looking for an opportunity to go out and find someone to sink its teeth into. Learning to love is something that no one taught us, although it is something that every human being longs to have, but in order to have, one must learn to give. But we only learn only if we want, only if we open our eyes and are willing to see what we recognize as examples and follow them and the truth is that in this world there are no longer as many as there once were. We lose the notion of what it is, we complicate it so much with our expectations, with our chaotic and tangled thoughts. I wish we could always be like children at least in this, that we could love innocently. Someone , after breaking my heart, called me a naive girl but you know it didn’t hurt because I refuse to let go of that part of me. That part that still wants to believe in love, that wants to give the whole heart, just because it can, just because it still has faith.











