It crept upon me quietly; so silently. Stealthy as a lion creeps toward its prey. It ensnared me in its trap and there was no way of my being released. It was a disease come to kill me. It was my medicine to keep me going. There was no way of being rid of my beautiful sorrow. It was cold and cruel, but kept me warm and safe. It was an unpredictable storm that came swiftly and swallowed me whole. It was a mix of emotions that left me sad and happy both angry and excited. I both hated it and desired it. It was a colorful mixture of many contradictions. I wanted it gone, but I needed it with me. It was a poison, it was my life. Love. It is my sorrow. It is my joy. It is my heartbreak. It is my happiness. It is my Heaven. It is my Hell. It is my savior. It is my downfall. I can't live without it. I can't live with it. It is my sweet, torturous, punishment. It is my pain. It is my pleasure. It tears us apart. It brings us together. It is a dizzying cycle of hate and need that continues on and on and will forever. Love is my power. It is my weakness. It is my poison. It is my life.