Love...

Love? It's just a word... a word without meaning... a word spoken with selfishness. When you say  “he/she loves me”, you’re feeling important. That’s why, when someone says “I love you”, you feel like telling the whole world this thing, rather than responding tot the person who told you, isn't it right?

Some people say that love is essential for living. But is it true? Sometimes, love is just a synonym for suffering, or pain, or even self-murdering. Love hurts, in a way or another. With love, you can even start a war. You can sell love, but you hearts alters, becoming impure. Love is like a double-edged sword. It can lead to life, but it can lead to death too. That’s why some people are happier alone. And they shouldn’t be damned. It’s not like they hadn’t found love. They had, but it was painful. So painful that it killed their soul. And now, they’re just waiting... They’re waiting for their own death. But in fact, isn’t it the thing that all people are waiting for, more or less? Death means the end of the suffering, the pain, the bag things... Why is it worth living? This is a cruel world, full of hate, murders, betrayals, lies. I can’t deny, there are some good things out there, but they’re not as many as the bad ones, and they’re hard to found.

Love means trust. Trust means putting your life on the loved one’s hand. And if he/she leaves you like you were merely an object, which already has been used, and now it should be thrown, it is as it kills you. I began to think that love it’s just an excuse for naivety. Nothing more.