After months of trying to deny it, I'm ready to admit that I'm still in love with him.

Progression in Al-Anon does not allow you to live in denial. I'm coming face to face with a lot of things I've hidden from myself because I didn't want to deal with them. One of those things is my love for him.

But blue, you say, he's an asshole. The next time he gets mad at you, he'll lash out and it'll destroy you emotionally. To which I can only respond, probably. I am not in denial about how he treats people. I know he's an asshole. I know he's an emotional sadist. I know he'll hurt me. But I can't seem to tear myself away.

I'll see him in about a month, and then we'll see what's really going on.

"Love is like oxygen, love is a many-splendoured thing, all you need is love!"

Couldn't have said it better myself. And that core theme is why it's my favouite movie!

It's great that this seems to be the word with the most thoughts.

Dave Matthews says it best for me. And yes I DO like DMB.

I sit around all day and think about you. I am far far away from you, but technology keeps us together. Somedays I think I love you. I think it over and I am sure of it. I call you to tell you how I feel, but as soon as you answer I realize what it really is. "I fall so hard inside the idea of you". You talk to me and my feelings are shattered. I don't love you I just want to be in love with you. Something you will lever permit me to do.

When you get past some sort of milestone, you start to come back down to earth. Sometimes it's a slow freefall, other times it's as if you're being sucked back down at full velocity.

Everyone goes through this.

It happens, whether we kid ourselves about its existence, or not. This invisible vacuum that ends our high-hopes and takes us back to ground-zero.

i've seen it destroy people.

"I really like you." I said.
He let out a soft soft laugh, mumbled against my neck "I like you too"
We kiss, looking away I say, "Really really like you"
He looks down at me, considers, then says "You know, it may seem a little odd to say... but I... think... I'm... falling in love with..."
I fall against his arm with a smile and mutter against his arm "I didn't want to be the first to say it."
"I got that vibe"
"You were right."
"Go me!"
We go back to kissing, and I can feel his smile meeting mine.



... Is... Is this how it feels? This giddyness? This comfort? This... completion?



.... God I've been missing out.

Bah.

And I am an accident waiting to happen
I'm laughing like mad as you strangle the captain
My place may be taken, but make no mistake
From a little black box, I can say without shame
That you've lost
You've lost
Do you know what you've lost?

Usually, I call everyone "love".

"Hey, love, how are you?"
"Bye love?"
"Oh *name* my love..."


But I can only call him dear.

my god i love you

i feel it rising in my stomach painful and truthful only you are not there, your voice yes and your eyes staring out at my bright and clear and tilted down at the corners and your hair that falls in front of your face in loose waves

i can imagine as you push it back with two fingers and grin

it keeps me awake at night

The words “I’m sorry” just aren’t enough
I’ve messed up too bad for it to be that easy
But what else can I say?

I’ve walked on the edge for too long
To come back without some consequence
But can I come back anyway?

I want to show you that I regret my disbelief
That I truly want to be with you
But how?

I wish things were like when we first met
Even though I know that’s impossible
But can’t I at least dream?

I need your forgiveness
Even though I don’t deserve it
But isn’t that what love is?

I don't believe I've ever truly understood love. If anything, I thought I was in love when I was probably in lust or in lust for love.

Love is the old weeping willow.
Love is the sigh of a rescued dog when he sleeps in a warm bed with an owner who loves him.
Love is the sound of music.

Love is him.

Love is laying with my head on his stomach feeling his muscles twitch as his body rests.
Love is feeling the hot summer air caress our bodies before the air conditioning sweeps us down to our boxers.

Love is the taste of your lips.
Love is knowing I'll be okay without you.

Love is knowing I don't have you right now.
Love is knowing I might.
Love is hoping to the future.

Lately I'm coming to find that I love him. I love him in a very different way than I have ever loved another person. There's something about the way that he looks when he sleeps, a gentle sort of innocence only sleep reveals in a person. He has this look when he wakes up in the morning to see me sleeping beside him, or rather waking beside him. It fills me with such emotion that I have so rarely come into contact with that it's almost frightening...

But I do, I love him. He holds a very special place in my heart and always will, I suspect.

Now, this is not to say that I do not get upset with him from time to time (usually fairly often) but two people who spend a lot of time together, one of which (me) has issues with speaking words, especially when stressed or angry. But he bears with me through all my craziness, and I stand beside, or in his general area, during all of his craziness. I've loved before and been hurt, and if I get hurt again, at least I felt the love being returned to me this time.

My favorite moments are the ones right before we go to sleep and right after we wake up : just looking at him and saying "Good Night ****" or "Good morning, starshine." or whatever.... I don't say it often, but whenever I do, it's because I'm too tired to hold reserve. When I tell him I love him he smiles and hugs me, then kisses me on the forehead and tells me he loves me too.... it's perfect, simple, and rare....

I hope the next person who I tell I love calls me an asshole. At least that'll be real.

Love

It scares the shit out of me.
We finish each others sentences, thoughts.....we're so alike that we are well affirmed in the fact that we should be together......

But we're both very hard headed. I have an attitude problem sometimes and I act a certain way and 30 seconds later, I don't mean it like it came out....But he is unforgiving, at least for a day or so. But i feel like that when we argue about something, or get mad at each other, I'm ready to work through it and put it in the past. But he focuses on all of the negative things that happen at that moment instead of the whole picture and all of the good things too.
I know that love is about sacrifice. I know that we love each other.
But sometimes I'm at a loss of words and even thoughts about how to put the day back together.
Often I think that love is about selflessness as well, and I wonder....What else of myself can I give?

love: this breaking of your soul upon my lips

I am starting to think I don't have the ability to actually love people anymore. I can easily get obsessed with people, but that's so completely different that the two shouldn't even be associated like they are.
I miss her. I miss talking to her. We used to talk all the time, but lately it's felt like she's just been blowing me off. I know she has her own life to live, and I know it doesn't have to include me. I just wish it did a little more. I wish I had that someone to talk to, who would tell me what she thought. I guess she got tired of telling me the same shit over and over again.

I love that girl. I love her. I can't imagine my life without her in it. She is my best friend, and I love her.

Next year is going to suck.

Oh. So this is what it is.
So this is what certainty is.
This is what it is to be totally decisive.
This is what a total second chance, a total fresh start is.
So this is love, not in bloom, but like an evergreen tree.
Solid and forever.

Sometimes I wonder why I always have the instict to write this word in cursive whenever I have to write it.

Perhaps it's because I have scribbled it more often then not on every paper multiple times in the margines critiquing how well I wrote it that time as opposed to the last time or if I get better over time on the same paper. Every paper I seem to turn in has this word written down multiple times in a fancy cursive.

I do have a boyfriend. And I am very much in love. Is that the reason?

I just wonder why I'm obsessed with this word. Why do I have to write it in cursive? And why does it feel wrong not to write it?




The answer:
I'm going insane.
If I haven't already

Part of me wonders if I'm in love with him.

Another part of me wants to tell him.

A much louder part of me is screaming. Telling me what an immensely bad idea that is.

one of my favourite webcomics wrote this a few months ago:

"love is giving someone the power to hurt you terribly
...and hoping they don't.

and we never trust anyone as easily as we did the first time."

I've heard that love is blind, and I always assumed that it meant blind to the faults of the one you're in love with.
Lately though I've come to realize that it means blind to what a selfish ass you are being, and how you are treating those around you.
Being in love doesn't give you an excuse to forget the people that have always been there for you.
Being in love doesn't make it ok for you to be a bitch.
Being in love doesn't give you the right to treat your friends and family like they don't matter.
It doesn't make it acceptable to ignore the obvious disruptions you are causing in other people's lives.
It doesn't make it any less terrible to rub you're relationship in other people's faces.
Being in love doesn't give you an excuse to act like an immature three-year-old.
It doesn't mean that you can disregard your responsibility.
It doesn't mean that you are entitled to get everything you want.
Being in love does not make you everyone's top priority!

So recently I've been thinking about love, and romance, and life and how my life relates to them, and how i feel about them. I've been reading these books and that has caused me to think about these things. It's kind of a philosophy. It come from a mixture of personal experience and watching people. So this is what I've come up with:

We're all looking for that perfect story-book romance.It's a part of who we are. We want to find that perfect person. That person that will ensure we'll never be lonely, that person we'd give our life for, that person that it hurts to be without. For a lack of a better term, out "soul mate." We all what the love our lives. Although, there are people that say they never want to get married, they're still looking. They may not want to be religiously bound to this person for the rest of their lives, but they want the love. I've seen it happen. Friends, family even, scared to death of commitment, finding someone that makes them so happy that they start to rethink their lives. They start to include that person. They want happiness, and it appears as if that person can offer them that.

This is why we date, test the waters, court, whatever you want to call it. We're looking for our happiness. This not to say that we can't be happy without a significant other, it's just to say that somewhere along the line (in another life, perhaps) we lost part of ourselves. A part of ourselves that we don't even know is gone until we've found it, again. But, once we've found it, and it's been restored, we know we can't ever live without it again. So yes, you can be happy without that person, but once you've found them, hold tight because living without them, is like living without yourself. Like you're a ghost of who you use to be. Your own personal hell.

So no, dating is not just a careless way to pass the time. As much as we hate to admit it, it's a search, a search for love, romance, happiness. It's a journey to our perfect story-book romance.

The idea entices us. I've found that in my own life the idea of a perfect love has me within it's grasps. I think it's partially where my love of reading and theatre comes from (as I said reading is what caused me to think of all this). The romance, the drama, knowing that end the end love will conquer all; it's very enticing. However, books end, and you come back down to reality. A reality that says we won't ever find that perfect love. A reality that statistically is right. Out of all the people you know either married, dating, or in love, how many do you think found their soul mate? No one that i know of. Most of the married people I know I wouldn't even call happy; content maybe, but not happy.

It's funny though. Knowing all this the idea of the perfect story-book romance still holds us. It's the hope that gets us. We still have hope that our perfect love is out there. Hope is what keeps us in the dating game, even though it can hurt so bad. Hope is what forces us to keep searching. Hope is what makes me continue reading, although I know it isn't real. All of us are hoping for our soul mates. We all want our perfect story book romance, and maybe we'll get it.

________________________________________________________

PS: This is the first time I've posted anything like this on here, so I'm wondering what you guys think. Do I have a chance in philosophy? I trust all of your opinions more than my family.

im trying to get my head around the problems im experiencing lately. damn it all, i have no idea what the problem really is.
partly, i think im in love...but again, damn it.
i knew her for awhile and felt the urge to make it known about a year ago, and she goes on an get an older guy, who shortly treats her as shit, and likewise dumps her, she then promply got another on the rebound and guess what, more shit. if that wasnt enough, she went ahead and also took what was behind curtain three...well, i dont know what happens from there, cause here we are.
easy enough, i lose out and things just go, cept she still seems the same way in her depressed nature and i have a feeling man three is another strike...
sure, shes just a slut you might think. i dont know, i dont think so, shes just confused, its in her nature, shes had a lot of hurdles, etc...
course, here i am, with lingering feelings of guinuine ones, and all for someone so messed up...
i dont even know if what i feel is normal, should i really feel this, for a girl like her, after a time like this...

Heart of darkness (soul so lost…)
Never leaving it’s shell
But for one other soul
That denied her love (her heart became darker...)
Happiness seems so unreal
In a world of nothing shadows
Surrounding and constricting (her heart was still beating then…)
She fell from the world
A memory of a plastic perfection
She wanted to be (a green neon star, in a sea of black and white…)
Never pausing to believe
That love was so extinct
In a world of tears and lies (she knew them very well…)
Although her intentions were pure
But still emotion is corrupt
It will take you very far, down…(She had been to the bottom…)
She watched herself fall so easily
Her soul broken upon the ground
And no longer did she want love (she needed it…)
No matter what happened
She would have died for it
She would fight with everything she had (it destroyed her…)
And all that is left
The pain that encases her
Is closing in faster (porcelain breaks so easily…)

* An old poem resurrected*

I never tell the people that I'm related to that I love them... even if I do love them I don't tell them. I tell my friends that I love them but I don't tell my family. It hurts my grandmother and I know this but I can't help it.

I tell my friends I love them because it's a different sort of love. It's something that can be healed once betrayed, even if it is never the same. With my family, I have this strange suspicion towards loving them.

I wish I knew why

"And even though I may never meet you, never laugh with you, cry with you, or kiss you, I love you. I love you."

That's the ending of an V.O. from V for Vendetta and it's had me thinking about it lately. I mean, I do love a lot of people that I've met vicariously through stories or ether posts or what have you, but what about the people that I have never met, that I may never meet.... could i love them too? Part of me would very much love to say yes, yes I would love all of these people that I've never known and may never know...but the rest of me completely disagrees.

What I've come down to is, yes, I do love people I've never met and may never meet, but not all of the people in the world. Just the ones with whom I have some sort of unexplained connection. The ones who are like me, insomuch as they have analogous experiences that would warrant an unknown connection from the other side of the world. Whether this connection be in our rather patchy memories of a not-so-amazing childhood, or in our love for adventure, or in some other experience that we have both had but will never speak of for we were not meant to meet.

But I have come to love connecting in some fashion with the fine writers of the Ether. I know a few of you in person, and I love you all dearly and you've shared in my love. My views of people have changed greatly in the last two years alone. I've been able to care for people more wholly, and love them and share in their joys and pains and this has opened me to a whole new page, a new chapter of love.

So, for you all,
I do love you, even when you come to think no one else does.... I love you.... I love you.

I am currently listening to "All of my love" by led zeppelin. I can't help but to wonder why people would say that they would give "all" of their love to one person. I'm very affectionate and very much enjoy those who have found themselves close to me. I enjoy loving them in my own fashion and receiving their love in return. However, I do not think that I could give all of my love to any one person (Sorry boys and girls). I don't know... part of my just thinks that those songs are silly. Then there's the idea of "Best of my love" ... same basic concept. I should hate to rank people and give them my best/worst love. ... .

I am so tired of being unsure. I've been in several relationships where I was DAMN sure I wouldn't be with them for the rest of my life, but never one that I was. I've been in two where I hoped, but knew better than to count on it. I'm now in my third. I don't know what's wrong with me.

I've sought love for many years now. My first relationshipesque thing was seven years ago. We had sex, I didn't feel anything. The first real relationship (albeit a teenage one) began September Tenth, 2001. Ended a year and a half later. The most intense and painful one began a few days later, and lasted five months. The best one I've been in, excuding now, came a few months after that one, and lasted two years.
Now I'm trying it again with no idea what will happen.

(love is all you need)

-edit-
Thanks for the correction, the more I'm into something, less of a damn I give.

It took him a year to realize that he needed me, but by that time, my heart had moved on.
Him:
"I'm starting to realize that you're the only person I have left."
I replied:
"I don't want you to be with me because I'm your only option, I want you to be with me because you love me."
That's the last real conversation we ever had....I just stopped answering the phone calls, and even set a ring tone to his name that reminded me why I wasn't answering it.
I had fought tooth and nail for a whole year to keep the relationship going, and in the end I was too emotionally exhausted with the situation to deal with more.
He tried to break up with me once, and I kept it together.
He moved far away, and I kept it together...for some godforsaken reason.
I asked him many times "do you want us to be together"
and he always said he didn't know.
I feel horrible about the situation, knowing that I really was the only person that still gave a damn about his existence, but enough was enough.
He waited too long to really value my love.

How do you know when you're in love?

Ha. I'm not in love. I was once. My heart melts very easily, to fill in the cracks in someone else's, to give them strength, to make them whole again. But at what cost?
I've been accused of being selfish, egocentric, arrogant, pretentious... I think those people didn't know what those words really mean. I am your weekend friend, who you go to when you need a shoulder to cry on. When I ask yours, I guess that suddenly makes me a bad person.

He said to me, "but I love you" and I kept walking away. I thought it had been the last time. He had said it more times that I can remember, but this was the first time I really thought he had meant it. He never said he loved me to try to get me in bed or anything like that, but when he thought things were getting bad, when he knew he had hurt me, he would always say "but I love you" and I would always stay, give it another go, try again, because "but I love you" That kept me going back and forth for six years. The last time we were laying in bed, everything was dark, and he was trying to tell me how he felt, that he loves me, but he knew that something was wrong, that he wants to be together forever, that he wanted me to talk to him. And I couldn't even find the words to tell him how I felt, that I was scared, scarred, and still bleeding. That I knew deep down that in the end the last thing I would ever hear from him was "but I love you"- but, I was wrong, as he left my house in the middle of the night to drive hours away, I stayed in my living room not willing myself to watch him go another time, then he asked me to walk him to the door, and I knew it was coming, I looked at him, he looked at me, kissed me softly on the cheek then he stood there for a moment, with his mouth slightly open looking at me and he walked out the door.

i don't want a seventy year marriage. i don't want your eternal commitment and devotion.

i want to be goddess and god, brought together for one night of perfect love, finding sanctity in each other before the morning sun burns off the fog, animalistic, simple, speechless pieces of together crashing against one another like the afternoon tide, like the pull of gravity. breathing into the other's mouth, creating words for new feelings, reliving a billion billion years of cosmic love affairs, bucking to the flickering of a wild fire until we fall together and sprout the seeds of the spring.

i don't want to know your name. i want to know every detail of your skin.

I remember the first time...I said it back because I felt obligated. He knew I didn't say it with as much feeling as he had, but he didn't care. He accepted the fact that I wasn't ready.

As time passed, I said it more and more often. And I meant it more each time.

It's over now, after more than two years, but I find that I still mean it. Maybe not in the same way, maybe more than I ever did while we were together.

I don't know what will happen now. Sometimes I find myself wanting to hear him say it again, wanting it to be real again. But that seems improbable.

I still mean it though.

I know it sounds cliché but I love love. However it is without a doubt the hardest emotion I have ever had to deal with. It scares me. What's sad is I'm not even talking about romantic love. I'm talking about the love between friends. The love that you feel for a relative. I don't know how I'm going to be able to deal with romantic love when I get to that point. I can't even tell my friends exactly how much they mean to me. I'm scared that they'll just think that I'm just really weird or something, too clingy. So I guess when I think of love, I have to think of fear.

The concept of romantic love is an attempt by humans to make their desire to fuck each other seem noble. Just like belief in the supernatural is an attempt to convince ourselves that we are far too special to just die. In other words, it's crap. But if you don't mind ignoring objective reality, and most obviously don't, then go ahead and spend most of your time thinking about it. Suckers.

I have a hard time with this word. It's just a word, I know, but it has such huge meaning behind it. With this word, a relationship can go into the next level. Without the word, the relationship stops and one member of the party wonders why the word wasn't used. Did they do something wrong? Why do we live and thrive on this word. If two people really do feel this way for one another, shouldn't the thought of knowing be enough? I admit I have used this word a few times in various relationships but in the end, how many of those relationships actually was based on that word? Was I lying to the other people? Were they lying to me? How can one truly know when to use this word? When is the right time to tell the other that you mean what you say? I can honestly say I said it to a special someone before and I really meant it. How do I know I meant it? Even though that person is not a part of my life, I still think about them and wonder what would have been if only circumstances had been different. Perhaps that is the only way to know whether the word is used properly is to lose the one it was intended for. If only there were some other way.

Love is an interesting concept to be sure, it is a multi-faceted thing that can end anyway your like. Yes, that's right, any way you like if you control your own world. However, you may not be in control, whatever, doesn't matter.

When you are in love with some one, it can take the form of a more spiritual, intellectual, emotional, physical. From there the levels vary to deep or shallow and anywhere between.

The ultimate question about love is what does it mean to you? What is this concept known as love? What does it mean to me? How does it feel to loose your self to the sea and allow the winds to carry you over the waves as they will.

Which love is deeper I wonder? The love that is resting in the spiritual aspect or physical? Maybe it's the combonation of all of these things and more. To me, it's not so much about the physical aspects of love, though they are a fabulous perk, it's more about intellectual emotional support mixed with a spiritual connection, but whatever. Love is love.
I love my friends
I love my family...some of them
I love my lovers, rundundant as it may be

Love me like you mean it.
Love me like you hate it.
Love me like you're faking it.
I know you mean it.
I know you hate it.
I know it because it's over.
And love was lacking feeling.
This Love that never was feeling.


anything.
but disregard.

Love is like fire. It may start as a tiny spark, or with a lighting strike to acres of dried growth. How it starts isn't always relative to how it burns, and how it burns isn't always relative to if or how it dies. Brushfires burn the brightest and get the most attention, but underground fires can smoulder on undected by those wanting to extinguish it for a very long time.


Also, the fires of true love never go out. No matter what happens between you and another person, if you truly loved them, a small flame with sputter and flicker inside you until you die.

What the Beatles failed to specify is FOR WHAT love is the only thing you need.

Life?
I don't buy it.
Life keeps going wether you've got love or not.

Happiness? There are times when love is the most miserable thing.

So, then what?


---


I can't believe i'm still in love with her. No good will come from this, ever, but... I still can't give it up.
It's my one addiction.


---

One of the newer entries says love is just a bad attempt to justify our lust.

I don't buy that for a minute.
If you want to know why, see my entry under alone.

All you need is love...

The Beatles were right after all...

i don't believe in love,
but i'm really glad you do.

My first girlfriend confessed that she was terrified of her love for me. She wrote in notes left next to my bed for me to find in the morning, "I love you so much, it scares me," and frequently described the experience of falling in love with me like she was falling off of a cliff.

I guess one can only take falling for so long before wanting to finally land.