Haven

As I'm getting older, I'm starting to lose my understanding of love. Love used to be more simple and understandable, but now my head cannot really picture it clearly.

Sometimes you think you want to die, but then you find yourself in the middle of the night, in the dark, lying in bed. You hear the sounds around you, observe the things that surround you, even if it's just a wall, the ceiling, a door, a window. Even the silence, which might sometimes seem frightening, reveals itself to be peaceful and comforting. Whether alone or with someone close, you feel sad because you don’t want to lose that strange feeling, and you fear that it will end. Sometimes you even wish it could last forever. Even if you don’t always feel this way, I believe that, deep down, we don’t really want to die. Maybe we just want to find a way to live without pain or that awful feeling that there is nothing worth living for. A purpose to keep going and still feel alive. I’m not sure about everything, but I feel that these small moments are one of my reasons for still wanting to stay, even when life is tough.

Made to love, but not to be loved; made to understand, but not to be understood; always the poet, never the poetry.