“I love you.”

Said so many times I don’t even know what it means. Each man thinking, “He’s the one.”

Only to realize that he’s an illusion of what I’d want him to be. Not an image of what love should be.

But then love came when I’ve cheated. When I’ve played games. When I’ve been it for a one night stand. Hoping, running, trying my best to escape the hurt that never seems to fade.

Love came and it found me not lying on the bedroom floor. No it found me when I’d slowly picked up my own pieces. When I’ve said, “I surrender,” because the last guy was a jerk.

Love walked to my door, knocking gently when I wasn’t looking. Showed me the colors of the world when I only saw gray. Entered me into an artist’s master piece. Introducing me to the feeling of what it was like to walk on a magical landscape. One filled with ocean waves and beaches as love walked by my side.

It kissed away the sexual relationships. Knowing far to well that what I longed for and pretended to want were not the same thing.

 

 

 

 

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