#winterpups

I write this letter as a warning,as a promise of things to come. We have a story you and I, a love story thatcould be immortal, could be eternal. But there are things you must know, though perhaps it is too late now: we are already in love.

Love: “The word lies awkwardly on your tongue, stumbles asit leaves your lips, air quotes visible.” (via herrsassyfras).  Our love story is one that will be told throughout the ages. Because it is a love that will scorch the Earth with passion and shatter the world as we know it.

But you shouldn’t love me. Shouldn’t trust me. For, “I am a galaxy. Not just a star. I’m sorry you could not see that” (via twenyonepilotz) before it was too late. Before you were consumed by the light, warped by things far too bright. Do you see any of the darkness in me now? I promise it is there, trust me.

Though, you should not trust me. You should “not trust people like me. I will take you to museums, and parks, and monuments and kiss you in every beautiful place so that you can never go back to them without tasting me like blood in your mouth. I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible. And when you leave you will finally understand why storms are named after people.” (via weteevee/winterpups).

People can break you in ways nothing else can. The more you love them, the more power they hold. I know what you are thinking. But, “this isn’t a debate; I am actually educated on the subject and I’m telling you, you’re wrong.” (via Valerie-An).

I know because love is my obsession. Your love. My own. Another’s love. None is superior to another. But what is yours? “Don’t hide your obsessions.” (via randomfandomteacher). Don’t deny them. Or they will be stripped from you like a scab peeled off before its time. There will be blood. Pain. The absence of what was will scar you in a way you never thought possible.

That’s what this love is. What it will be become. A scar to be worn as badge of honor, a support ribbon, a favorite accessory that becomes so often worn you forget you have it, but  know the minute it is gone. And you will feel it, even after it’s faded away into memory.

This is the warning. We will love harder than you ever thought possible. And when our love ends we will know the true depth of how far love can cut and hate can heal.  So, the choice is yours: love while you can or run while you can? Or is it too late? Because we are already in love.

Yours truly,

               A poet, a writer, a lover, a liar.

Winterpups