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"There is no one who loves pain itself, who seeks after it and wants to have it, simply because it is pain..."

- Lorem Ipsum

how true.

it seems there is no palpable escape from pain and love (or the lack of it), these days. everywhere i turn, there it is. glaringly in my face. blatantly and smugly so.

love pain. pain love.
'love is pain and pain is love' - lil' flip.

oh boy, these two words are getting too synonymous for comfort. i get queasy just thinking about it. weird huh. how a few alphabets (four each, to be exact) haphazardly thrown together, could bring about such intense emotions within me.

it saddens me terribly; just the notion of breakups has the inane ability to bring out the psychotically idealistic fool in me. the one fresh out of secondary school; waiting to find true love just waiting around on a horse somewhere in the tp compound, armed with roses (white), a ring and a declaration of undying love.

what a bunch of BS.

i learnt that it never pays to be over-idealistic, though that lesson came later to me than most, and harder too. he broke my heart for a while, a VERY long while. a year? wait, if my memory serves me right, there were two He's; the one with the green eyes, who left me distraught and in ruins, though strangely bitterly poetic about it and the other, armed with a guitar and his words of deception, which i hear he recites on a new-relationship basis. i left, but as irony would have it, he left me a cynical jaded bitch. the latter caused massive destruction and permanent damage plus a bonus year long warranty to 'stay away from guys' and i quote myself here.

i wish them both happiness, the kind that i sincerely mean. i'm no longer (as) bitter *grin* it was just another one of life's necessary lessons, the kind that sort of upgrades you to a higher level of living and/or learning.

love is a funny thing. it ranks up there with boys and maps under "things women can never comprehend." if ever i were to write a book, that might be it. just a thought, i find (and i'm not alone in this) that that i write better when i'm heartbroken or unrequitedly in love. i suppose the bitterness of a woman scorned/being out of love has that effect on one's grammar and vocabulary.

there are many types of people who would fall under the category: i write well because i am not in a normal functioning relationship!

1. people in relationships where love is not a common factor in the equation.
2. people who are still in love with their exes.
3. normal unrequited love type participants.
4. people in love with their friend's partners.
5. people in open relationships.

alright, i'm not knowledgeable enough in this area to list all the possiblilities, but these are just to name a few.

i don't know how they do it, but my heart goes out to them. to all of you, and them, and more.

for going on with life like it never mattered, like you're not broken, like you don't care. for pretending that all the mundane things could actually take your mind off the one thing you care about, the only thing you care about.

i've seen that look on your face; the one of wanting, of longing. yet you mask it, well too. because you know it's gone, there's no point in wanting what you can never have. your eyes have lost its colour; when you see, you see in black and white. your whole being seems limp and lifeless; the weight of your pain bears down on you, without a strand of mercy to keep you afloat.

seeing her everyday, without being able to touch, to hold, to love. your only solace is to watch, your eyes linger just a bit longer than a stranger with no affiliations should. no one notices, but she does. she always does. because she's doing the exact same thing. the tension, though unspoken and unheard, can always be felt. even from where you are, to where she is; miles away, from being yours again. you both know. you both feel the invisible hand tightening around your heart. i still love you, that's what i want to say. but i can't. if i turn around now, i can still walk away. but if i stay...

i know your pain. all i have to do is to look into your eyes. your face may be smiling, but all i hear is your heart breaking.

song: ryan adams, 'now that you're gone'

take it from me, listen to the song and take the tissue box with you.