love-lost

I have, he went on, betrayed myself withbelief, deluded myself with lovetricked myself with sex.the bottle is damned faithful, he said,the bottle will not lie

Did she make you laugh? Did she love you as much as you loved her? Did she protect you and warm you and keep you from suffering? Valentine turned her eyes away from him, unable to face the empty answer in his face but not wanting to stop saying what she had thought for so long. "I saw how fascinating her mystery was to you. For my part, I think that the mystery is always greatest where there is the most-emptiness. A person full of life is never mysterious, on the contrary.

A faerie heart is different from a human heart. Human hearts are elastic. They have room for all sorts of passions, and they can break and heal and love again and again. Faerie hearts are evolutionarily less sophisticated. They are small and hard, like tiny grains of sand. Our hearts are too small to love more than one person in a lifetime...I tried to talk sense into my hard little heart. But it had landed on Peter, a creature two hundred times my size and barely aware of me, and there was no prying it loose.

Years of love, followed by heartache. Those are the years that define me.Those are the years that know_ love__ eternity is you.

The day arrived,when myriad teary rivers flow and the muted wind faintly died in his tears__n altar for the beloved one's departure,for sister-hood is no more,for her to adore!while pangs the beating world in a lamenting voice;their remembering loss of the 'one' they embrace most and when the crepuscule came like a phantom,the mournful,gathered birds swiftly flew in gloom.

Laney, why do I believe you transcend the ordinary? Why do I look at you, and expect to see a façade fall away, revealing something much more than even the extraordinary? Tell me."Elaine flushed, her knees wobbling. ___don___know. But thank you__or the kind words. I__ flattered._ She closed her eyes wanting to hide. He was too close_too beautiful_too fervid.And she was too vulnerable, too exposed.__ook at me.__he hesitantly met his unwavering gaze.__o more hiding in your shadows,_ he whispered, __ecause I will find you. And I will drag you kicking and screaming back into the light, where you belong. Do you understand?___es."__ood._ He took her hand and guided her forward.

I got nervous at bulls and eagles,Trying to figure what shape Zeus might take f

All love is bittersweet. Love is inexplicable; it is part poetry and part masochism. Part of love is the loss of self-control because one must openly surrender their sense of an exclusive self to the manic powers of love. The personal act of surrender to a lover leaves one vulnerable to entanglement in a maze of emotions. When we fall in love, our lover__ happiness and well-being assumes the primary role in our mind, they become copilots of our souls. When we are in love for the first time, we feel what it means to become a complete person; we identify who we are by seeing our reflection in our lover__ eye; and we sense what we might become when infused with love. When our lover leaves us, we feel vexed and vacant because we recognize that they took up such a large part of what made us feel intoxicated with life. When our lover abandons us, we lose our sense of self; we temporarily cease to exist as a whole person, and we must reconstruct the shattered remnants of oneself in the wake of a love lost.

No one can claim they are mature until they experience the hallucinogenic ramifications of being in love, and undertaken an urgent personal assessment and soul-searching discernment that is mandated after experiencing the bitterness of losing in the love game.

Somehow everything always came down to time, she realized with perfect lucidity. There was either too much or too little. It either passed too quickly or too slowly. It didn__ belong to anyone__t was simply a gift, bestowed by God, and yet eternally taken for granted. She closed her eyes for a moment, wishing Time could be tamed__eigned in__nd tethered, synchronized with human needs and wants. But that wasn__ the case, was it?

I wonderif you ever read my poemsand wish they were writtenfor you.

My dad had limitations. That's what my good-hearted mom always told us. He had limitations, but he meant no harm. It was kind of her to say, but he did do harm.

Shakespeare had it right all along: Love will kill you in the end.

I love a man who tickles me awake with reality, and kisses me goodnight with fictionBraids my hair with simplicity to compliment my contradiction And calms the waging wars inside with a simple boyish lookFor he is as much a mystery as he is an open book When I am at my worst, I am beautiful by his sideHe draws me in yet keeps me free, the moon to my tideHe relishes my quirks and antics just as much I love to keep him franticAnd if I ever fall, he doesn__ catch me right awayBecause he knows I__l glideAnd even more so, knows how much I enjoy the ride_With the strength I lack, he holds my insecurity safe in-between his fingersAnd if there is ever a doubt while I am out running aboutHis steady grip lingersHe drives me crazy just as much as he keeps me saneAnd has the wisdom to keep me wild knowing I__l die if ever tameSo when I am far, he frets not, because he knows he__ my favorite destination If ever I am down, he joins me on the ground and points out my favorite constellationsHe catches my sighs and lackluster repliesWith ageless humor and tenacity I draw blanks at his capacity And challenge his audacity But He wins because despite my stubbornness he is persistentYet forever fails because he belongs to nonexistent

...you betrayed me, but after all those years I discover, my tears have wiped the slate clean...

Fuck 'em. Call it whatever you want. Maybe it's just two people clinging to each other to stay alive. Maybe sometimes that's all love gets to be. And, maybe, if they hold onto each other long enough . . . maybe something good finally happens.

i have loved and i have lost and im starting to believe; its ok. Sometimes what we "think" is best for us, is only the beginning of what is truly "meant" for us. And if i have loved, so deeply the wrong heart; i am content in knowing the greatest love i will ever experience, hasnt even begun yet.

I knew from the start we were nothing like "forever". Maybe because forever is such a scary place.