Nothing is easy and that’s why it feels so true, so real. It’s not a fairytale; it’s not all hearts and flowers. It’s harsh, hard, strong, and passionate and I can’t wrap my head around it.
I have found the paradox, that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love.
This life will hit you, hard, in the face,wait for you to get back up, just so we can kick you in the stomach, but getting the wind knocked out of you is the only way to remind your lungs how much they like the taste of air.
We all make different choices and we need different things and I think eventually we learn to define happiness for ourselves on our own terms in spite of the pain that the people have caused us.
Love isn’t him calming you down when you yell. It’s him yelling, just as loud, just as hard, right back at you, right in your face to wake you up and keep you grounded. It isn’t him bringing you roses everyday or cute things that make your relationship appear more presentable. It’s after a long fight, that drains the life and bones out of both of you, and yet him showing up at your door the next morning anyway. It’s not him saying all the right things or knowing exactly how to handle you. It’s not him caressing your hair and telling you everything is going to be alright. It’s him standing there, admitting he’s just as scared as you are. You have to remember that with love, you’re not the only one involved. You’ve unknowingly put your life, your heart into the palms of another person’s hands and said, “Here. Do what you will. Mash it into mince meat, or forget I ever handed it to you.