Love.

Love.

A Chapter by Smitty "Euro" Thompson
"

Albert Vogel -- 1941

"

Love.
Albert. H. R. Vogel--1941

 

People don't seem to understand how I think. Yes, indeed, I am focused and what I say may hurt, let alone can do terrible things in the short term, but they do not seem to understand that I think in the long expanses of time. They do not seem to realize that I am not an elitist. I do not speak down from a place of greatness and as a saint but rather up. Up from the place of a sinner who has gone through this before and is trying to protect others.

Love is not simple, nor is it beautiful.
If you believe in that definition you are a simpleton.

If you want love and not infatuation you might as well have to kill yourself to get it. These children expect all roses and daisies laid at their feet when they fall head over heels for someone. They don't seem to realize that love is like a ball and chain. It attaches itself to you and you can't ignore it. Its like a parasite, it saps your will to exist and infiltrates into your system like a potent concoction. Its like an intoxicating drug... you erode away from it. You suffer because of love. Someone once asked me how can love hurt... no one seems to understand that love is hurt.

But what else is there?
That is when you realize...

That you need it.
Love is when you realize that all those sayings, all those muttered "I love you"s into each others ears, all the hand holding the hugging, the kissing, the love-making... are something that you have suffered for and would not care if you suffered more because that person you so loved is with you.

I still feel pain for those I lost because of love. I still suffer at their hands, but I don't care. I don't care. These ... children have no concept of that. They frolic with each other and when something goes wrong they bicker and fight and then mope. It's a pathetic cycle.

It is not love, its infatuation.

Love is when you are going mad and still pick yourself up and fight to get that person back. Love is when you realize that that person has become your soul. Not your life, but you very soul...

And when you loose them ... when you don't fight... you become like me...
Bitter...

 

 




Vogel turned his eyes away from the letter, the stern glance ever etched upon his face was undisturbed yet there was something new about him. He looked at the ground, the gentle glint in his eyes as the silver crystal of a few salty tears drained from his sapphire gaze.

"Lost..." His hand clenched into a fist. "...the last man on earth."



© 2011 Smitty "Euro" Thompson


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Added on April 29, 2011
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Author

Smitty "Euro" Thompson
Smitty "Euro" Thompson

Gettysburg, PA



About
Hallo, my name is Smitty Thompson. I am a 20 year old History Major with a German and Creative Writing minor at Gettysburg College, PA. My main interest is German history mainly from formation to th.. more..

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