Without sadness

Why are we so mad at sadness? Why are we afraid of being sad? Why do we feel like our own tears burn our skin? I still haven’t found the answer, but…I’m no longer afraid of sadness. To me, sadness is the purest and most honest emotion. Why? Because nobody lies when they say that they are sad. We can fake happiness so easily, we can pretend that everything is fine, we can paint smiles over our cries. But when we finally admit that we are sad…we are honest. People don’t wanna be seen as sad, unhappy, miserable. But why? Why do we run away from the purest and most honest emotion? Happiness without sadness wouldn’t be possible anyways…


It’s about you

It’s not about them or about anybody else, it’s about you! You’re so afraid of commitment that you can’t think straight. You just think that the other person will appear and magically make everything better. They can’t do that, they’re only human! Don’t indulge in sappy, romantic ilusions that have been imprinted in your mind by hundreds of rom-coms, that’s not what love is about! Love doesn’t consist of boxes of chocolates, drunken sex, pebbles in the window, and romantic kisses at the airport. Love is about sacrifice, about putting the other person first, it’s about the fights you have, the tears you spill, the doubts that somehow creep inside your mind, the late night talks and every other small thing that makes love beautiful. And even if sometimes it may hurt, it may make you insane, it’s all worth it. And if you’re gonna start running from love just because you think it’s supposed to be some magical, sparkly, pink potion that will make you fly above cloud 9 then you’re gonna miss out on an amazing ride through life.

I’m naked…

When you love someone you open your heart in front of them. You give them a part of you that you give to nobody else and you let them collide a part of your soul that only they can destroy. You simply hand them a knife and a map to the place where the can cut your heart and your soul inflicting the worst pain ever. They will let you exposed and lost when all you did was love them. And they let you wonder what you did wrong. What is it with you that makes everyone leave? What’s wrong with you that nobody can love you? To happen once is horrible, but when it repeats it becomes a habbit. That’s when we realize  that people you once called a friend or a lover is now a stranger, how memories leave bitter-sweet traces on your tongue, how every step makes you think of them and realize that they forgot you. Who wouldn’t be terrified of such thing?