She spread out all her troubles one by one for all of us to see, each problem like an exhibition displayed on a PowerPoint presentation. First slide: the heavy consequence of giving too much love but not leaving any for herself and how it was finally taking its toll. Next slide: Pure, unadulterated exhaustion resulting in jagged, red lines etched on the parts of her hands that no one else would see. Third slide: A map of The Rest of Your Life under her nose and a one-way bus ticket to unhappiness held tightly in her right hand.

"He'll change." or "I don't want everything I worked for to go to waste. We got this far." Echo, echo, echo. Different characters, same script.

And all of this is attributed to what everyone calls love, but perhaps it would be more truthful if we said loneliness or lust, instead.

Then you start to think, how can it be possible for a person to want it,  for me to want any of it when all it does is slice you open and leave you on the floor with your guts spilling out while you smother in a sticky pool of your own blood? Maybe I've been reading too much Palahniuk, but you get my point.

It frustrates me a little more than it sickens me how victims of abuse gravitate towards the people who've abused them, how this certain Barbadian singer and the man who came very close to practically destroying her face back in 2009 are getting back together shortly after she broke down on National Television about how much she thinks he's her soul mate, how married couples are only sticking together for the kids much more than you think. How some people think it's okay to give everything to the person they love even if it means being left with nothing. How some people stay and choose to look the other way even if it also means shutting out the possibility of being happy. But that isn't all.

Last night you said, "There's a difference between love and being stupid."
It's the same thing.
"No, it isn't."

Yes, it is. Because if love isn't synonymous to foolishness then there would be no tears, no groveling in the dirt, people would leave and extricate themselves the first chance they get before a relationship degenerates into an even bigger mess. People would be selfish- they'd choose themselves first.

"Then that would no longer be love."

Yes, but it wouldn't be foolishness either.

--

This does not mean that I'm shutting it out.