Brain Blast

When is love really love?

Is it when you start getting hurt or is it when its making you happy?

Is it when it makes you feel warm inside or is it when you're willing to endure staying out in the cold for that one person?

Is it when you fight hard to keep someone or is it when you are willing to give him up just to see him happy?

Love is an abused word. It comes in many definitions, many forms, many lies. It's been used as an excuse for our many mistakes and as justification for our many stupid actions. Its been used to explain little joys of life and butterflies in the tummy. Its been used as reason of huge sacrifices we do for people who usually don't deserve them. And even for just lack of a better word, love is used and abused.

Love is relative. As all things are.

In my own definition of love, in my own awkward ways, I'm sure I have loved. It may not fit into other people's description of it but I know, one way or another, I loved and had been loved. And as much as I want to abuse it and say it out loud everyday in everyway, it scares me because along with it comes great responsibility and sometimes if you are as unlucky as I am, great pain too.

So don't fret if I don't say it, I may not be the usual loving person, maybe not the sweetest thing on earth but in my somewhat evil ways, I feel it and I feel you. Or even if you don't feel as I do, it doesn't matter. This is how I do it. I may not wear my heart on my sleeve but I'm trying to find ways to show it. I know sometimes I don't do it right but I'm doing it in ways I know how.