In Love With The Idea Of Love

Once love, to me, was a kind of magic. The kind that was everywhere yet still managed to inspire awe in all who saw it. It was a beautiful thing, especially as a little girl who wanted nothing more than to be loved. Nowadays love is still beautiful but like magic I can no longer believe its real. Love is so amazingly unattainable that it can't really exist. It can only be a odd mixture of affection and lust, nothing close to the magical thing I once believed in.

It is possible that I'm just a cynical person but in all my experience 'love' never lasts. Love is full of conditions and rules and suspicion. We can't read minds so there will never be any real trust between people. 'Love' is always started because of something physical or appearence. They say family is forever but I know for a fact that my uncles have not talked to their mother for years. Nothing is forever, nothing is perfect. Love is nothing.

I am in love with the idea of love, the idea of perfect, and the idea of forever. True love only exists in stories and dreams, and for me that's enough.