tears

Love is as much of an object as an obsession, everybody wants it, everybody seeks it, but few ever achieve it, those who do will cherish it, be lost in it, and among all, never... never forget it. If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be. Remember, love is never wanting to lose faith, never wanting to give up, and never truly moving on. Love is knowing and praying in the deepest part of what's left of your heart that they feel the same. Believe that everything happens for a reason. People change so that you can learn to let go. Things go wrong so that you appreciate them when they're right. You believe lies so you eventually learn to trust no one but yourself, and sometimes good things fall apart so better things can fall together. One would always want to think of oneself as being on the side of love, ready to recognize it and wish it well but, when confronted with it in others, one so often resented it, questioned its true nature, secretly dismissed the particular instance as folly or promiscuity. Was it merely jealousy, or a reluctance to admit so noble and enviable a sentiment in anyone but oneself?