Have moved!
The URL is the same, so I dont know how you reached here, but redirect yourselves to thedragonreborn.blogspot.com.

Ramble, Bramble, Amble, Scramble

So seriously, what is love?

I'm sorry to go all Sophie's Choice, but there is nothing like pretending to be in love to make you all Philosophical. Everyone needs something, and so love is a different creature for everyone. A person that meets your needs, is someone who loves you. A touch cold, but oh, so painfully true.

Compatibility, a word that is often frowned upon because of its non romantic connotations and general remove from the fire and brimstone passion that relationships should have. (That's the other thing, which idiot decided that love should be all about spontaneity and heart over head? It makes for disaster. To love someone with your heart, I have realised is easy. I mean seriously, what does a heart know? Its all gushing, throbbing, pumping mindlessness, and yet we let it make such important decisions for us?) But without compatibility you will end up hurt and alone and completely alienated from the person you have now formed such a massive connection to, and even worse, completely alienated from yourself. You will open your eyes one day, and not recognise yourself. In the mission to achieve harmony with the one that you have chosen you have sacrificed things that were sacred, things that were you, and you did in the name of love and faith and forever. You will open your eyes feel incredibly silly, because now all that you had given up in love is now the ammunition that makes you unworthy.

I am ashamed to say that I never gave romantic relationships the credit they were due, and treated people whose relationships dominated, dictated and devastated their lives with much disdain and mockery. I never realised what a monumental amount of effort a relationship takes to succeed, no forget succeed, what it takes just to make one not-unhappy. Not happy, just not-unhappy. I suppose until now my relationships were background noise. I never considered them more and certainly treated them as less. So I never understood what took. I am now mired in so much.... quicksand. There are so many things that can go wrong that must be thought about and considered. And having now decided that I will be me no matter what, its like starting a new relationship, but one already bogged down with baggage. How do you people do more than one of these in a lifetime?

My Precious

And in the darkness we live.

Alone though unfettered. We keen with the despair of our lives and our loves, but we are careful, so careful never to look directly at the passageway that leads out of our cursed existance. Without our curse, we would be free. And that is the one thing we cannot bear to consider.

And so, in the darkness we live.

Content that our curse will keep us warm, and that freedom is just a mythical monster that we need not ever face.

And in the darkness we live, with you, our love.

How do you say goodbye to your life?

Isnt it tragic, that when faced with seperation, your mind invariably travels to the all the things that you will never have again, rather than the things that you will be finally free of.

Why are we hardwired to torture ourselves? Something I was so sure was ineveitable, and possibly the best course of action only a few moments ago seems now to be a course of action so ridiculous in its conception that I simply can not believe that it is what I had decided to do.

What I have done. Are we doomed to forever regret that which we may have thought out and discussed within the inner reaches of our minds? Why, when faced with the reality of my carefully reasoned arguements, the actual happening of an idea and an emotion, everything seems to be a pale echo of what I had thought it would truly be.

Why, and from where, comes the conviction that I am the only one to feel this way? How I now long to see you. To hear you sigh with impatience and reach for me in absolute exaspertaion that I might have taken what you said seriously. To hear you say it isnt true, that all the words we said meant nothing and that the decision we made to unintwine our lives was just anger and sleeplessness and stress. That the love was still there, unblemished and whole and enough, to take us through this storm and any other that might come our way. That we are still that, we, and not separated into the cold and dead you and I that I could surely never endure hearing on either of our lips.

How do you say goodbye to a heart and a soul full of love? DO you rip them out and pray that they will grow again? Hope that there is infact an endless supply of tender feelings, of love so deep that you leak a puddle onto the floor everytime you stand still for too long?

But it is. Whole and unblemished and enough. But perhaps, only for me. To love you and never forget even in the heat of mindless anger that you are mine and that I will love you no matter what I said and how often I said it. That you, beyond everything else I have ever touched were perfect. That i am sorry. Full stop.

And finally, at the end of our loving, as it crumbles and turns to gray dust that hides and festers beneath our fingernails, as the drum rolls one last time and the frail lightning of hope crashes out in the sky, finally, I have written you a love letter. One that I strived for so long to compose but could never find the words. Here my love, my heart, my life, here is a declaration of my love. I did not want to let you go.