(“Love is my wildest dream and strangest illusion. It’s my strangest illusion”)
It is the subtle killer of all my realities. I was blinded by the idea of love even before I fell in love. And how could I have not? People always tell you about the constructive power of love, no one teaches you about how destructive it could be. They tell you about how the love of Christ saved us but then no one tells you about how it ruined Samson. They tell you about the butterflies that you feel right before his lips land on yours, but no one tells you about how a huge stone settles on your heart when the same lips whisper good bye. I have been made to build a shrine to worship love but no one ever talked anything about sacrificing myself at the altar. Love was always portrayed to be the hero in all those bed time stories that my grandma told me, I mean all that those caught up girls had to do was fall in love with a bloody prince and whoosh! Problem solved. So you see, I was drugged by the idea of love slowly and slowly, until he came and kiss-sucked me back into reality.