What is love?

Indescribable?

Bliss?

Heaven?

Your soul’s recognition of its counterpart?

A passionate obsession?

Or is it that lump you get in your throat when you see him?

Or that knot that forms in your stomach when he’s near?

Or the way your chest throbs when he leaves you?

Or the pain you suffer, when you realize he hates you?

Or that unbearable pain that makes you fall to your knees and cry to the skies for it to end?

And when you’re not answered; the pain that lingers for months to come, is that love?

The fire that claws at your chest every time you see him, is that love?

That twinge in your chest that involuntarily ties your everything, into nothing.

Is that love?

Is it love when you want to die for everything, when you’ve done nothing?

Is it love when you feel likes there’s nothing left, but pray for more?

Is it love when regret rips at your chest, dying to be released?

Is it love when your heart has shattered; no matter what others have told you, you know you’ve become heartless?

So.

What is love?

A strong infatuation?

That weightless feeling in your chest?

Paradise?

Ecstasy?

Indefinable?

Or is it the way you want to rip your heart out of your chest so you can feel no more?