Love

This is about how I see love specifically how I see it through my life.

Love is artificial. It looks real, it seems real, but its fake. Love is the sort of complex idea that makes everyone lose themselves. You may not understand this, because for some, love has never truly been felt. I have felt love. I see it everywhere. I see it in families, in couples, in a passion for a dream, but the fact about love is that it fades and it withers and it dies. Everyone understands this concept. That when you grasp onto something and hold it tightly, your hands get sweaty and you slip, you fall and that's it. Just like love. People understand that its an artificial feeling. People demand to feel love because they feel as if love is the equivalent to happiness. This idea isn't true. We base our lives off the want of the feeling to be loved. Why? Because we burden ourselves. How dare we go through life independently. Love has no meaning. It is simply a word on a page or a misused, misunderstood feeling or saying that breaks us, shatters us, into a million pieces. We all wonder if we'll be alone forever. Unfortunately this is true. We live, we breathe, we die. People search and search for meaning, for purpose, but the simple fact is; humans are nothing. We are simply another creature roaming around this world for no reason at all. We base a life off of love and happiness but this is artificial.

My feeling for this really started when I became numb to thought. My girlfriend had just finished begging on her knees for me not to leave after I had seen the messages on her phone to her ex-girlfriend.

"You're still the only girl that can make me cum." She wrote.

This was a lie of course, the b***h knew it too, I swallowed her cum and she tasted it on my lips but that didn't stop her lies. I began at that moment to look at my life. You would think that at this moment I would be furious but no, love said, stop, you love her, pick her up and kiss her. There was a single moment between then and when I touched her when I thought about the mistake I was about to make.

I'm blind. To feeling, to love. Instead I'm bound. To a girl who doesn't deserve me. To a girl that doesn't respect me. I feel as if I mean nothing to her, and she laughs as if betrayal is something that's funny. Its almost comical how she plays this game. I see her pattern, and I understand. She's never been respected. No one has ever cared about her or what she deserves so to put it simply she started to believe she deserved what all those fucked up people gave her. I would say rape, drugs and abuse were the core of this issue.

She is someone that understands the idea of love, the idea of it artificiality, but she wants it anyway. I wish she could understand that to be loved is not what she needs.

I realized that through my life I had seen love and its true artificial meaning.

My birthday, a day to celebrate. My best friend and I went on a hike in the morning. Of course my friend and I had our fair share of history. All I have to say is she's Mormon and I'm a lesbian and it all makes since. I took her over to her friends house and her friend proceeded to make a comment to her that was clearly offensive, a slur towards sexual orientation. Being my best friend I had expected her to stand up for me. She laughed instead.

Its not as if this girl didn't deserve me or that this girl and I hadn't been through so much already it was that in that moment the only the thing I could think was I don't want to be your friend any more.

Love found its true colors. My friend said nothing to me. She didn't text, she didn't call, she didn't visit, she simply ignored and from then on, it's stayed that way.

Her hand slid across my face so quickly, it almost burned. My face turned a deep red that showed I was trying to hold in my anger and rage. I didn't even feel the burn until a teacher started calming me down.

My ex-girlfriend and I didn't have a good relationship. We were that couple that no one wanted to invite to anything because all we would do was fight. The first and only time she truly hit me was then. It came out of no where and I don't think I have ever felt so entirely angry in my life. The crazy thing is, that not only was this not the worst thing she had done to me, it was also that I staid with her after that.

This girl was the ultimate crazy. She had sent me death threats for attention and used a fake name to send me emails of photos of me with a cropped in gun to my head. She had a sex craze and when she wasn't mad at me we were having sex. You see, our relationship was hidden from our parents because they didn't want us to be together but love said fight so we fought for it, and all its artificiality. So sex wasn't great, ok, let's get real, the sex was horrible. We had sex in the girls locker room, in the dugout of the baseball field, in the back of my best friends car and get this, we had sex in her car while she was in the drivers seat, she still has absolutely no idea. So here I was. I thought I was in love with this girl and all the fighting, the craziness and the horrible sex. How much of an idiot can a person be?

I wasn't in love. I was simply in love with the idea. The idea that being loved back would fulfill some sort of want I had. As if love would give me a sense of meaning and purpose. The idea that love isn't so artificial, although; it was, and still is.

My mother. The women who unwillingly carried me in her stomach for a number of months. Im supposed to respect her, I'm supposed to look up to her, both of which I don't do. My mom went away to prison for 5 years of my life for abusing children. Not the ideal thing to be telling my friends or anyone for that matter. I was embarrassed of my mother. For a point of that time that she was away I actually hated her and was disappointed to call her mother. She was supposed to be there for me. She was supposed to teach me the things I didn't yet know how to do. I couldn't help but feel as if my mom had chosen to go away. I blamed her and ever since the beginning of that, I've never stopped blaming her. Everything was her fault all the time. She was supposed to have loved me but she missed 5 years of my life. She claimed to know me and I felt as if it was a lie. I wasn't her daughter any more, I was her puppet. I walked around being tied to a pair of strings that bound me to my mother and I hated it. Love came between us as if to create a gap. There was no happiness in this section. She came to me with tears in her eyes telling me she loved me and I didn't believe her. It was a lie, an idea, an unanswered question, a useless misused feeling she had pretended to give me throughout the years of my life that she didn't know me, which is still currently going on.

My father. A man who was supposed to be taking care of me while my mom was away but instead sent me away the moment I gained a deadly disease and told me that he couldn't handle it. I was the one with a deadly disease and he couldn't handle. Seemed fucked up to me. Tennessee seemed nice. Living with a family I hated was absolutely wonderful, not to mention I was also half across the United States from my family who lived in Oregon. I saw my mother once a month for 2 years, and on months with big holidays, like Christmas and new years I couldn't fly home because it was too busy. 2 years of Christmas without my family and then 5 without my mother, you grow used to hating Christmas because family time became unimportant.

The truth is I blame my father for more than what he really did. Don't misunderstand the fact that yes my father treated me horrible over the years but there's more I blame him for than his actions. I blame him for my feeling. Yes, that's right, I blame him for the way I feel as if he placed it there himself as a purposeful action to hurt me.

Love is like a disease. It stays with you through your life because there's no way to get rid of it. The absence of love doesn't make someone unhappy. We've built a facade around love, an idea that if we had love, that one simplicity, it would make us happy without a single doubt. What if I told you this isn't true? Would it hurt you? Would you care? Would you understand?

I've come to a conclusion. A simple conclusion that life is nothing. We are simply just here, and people are so afraid to admit that because they can't stand the idea that we are nothing. They have to devote their life to a purpose because without purpose they feel empty.