Everyone is difficult to love, and
everyone finds it difficult to love someone else.
It’s hard not to miss all those
little things that stir up your blood. It’s hard to love other people for who
they are without feeling the itch to change them. It’s hard to understand them
on some nights. It is harder to keep loving them anyway.
On some nights, I feel like giving
up. On some nights, it feels that maybe the absence of love will solve it all.
In those moments, I remember the memories, I remember every time exactly how
holding him made me felt. I remember how every single time, somehow, my laugh
is truer with him. I remember how he makes me feel about being myself. I
remember how every time he flawlessly accepts all my flaws with nothing but
love in her eyes.
So maybe it is not easy to love
people. Maybe life will be much less messy if we were always detached. But
where will we find the magic then? If love is not the point, what’s the point
anyway?
God Bless Us..
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