Love

Is love like that?
Pulling you one way, and yet you feel like you're being pulled by the other. As if you're a bridge and invisible forces are stretching you across the river, long enough to make sure that people can cross, and then you get nailed into the ground to make sure you're secure and wouldn't fall. You think that's all and that you can't feel anymore pain, but just when you're becoming more optimistic, it comes again. And it feels worse this time. People step on you, jump up and down, squashing you just for the fun of it, and they don't even give a damn about how pain you might feel. But you can't seem to get angry, not at the people walking on top of you, not at the tugs that had caused your pain in the first place.
You just can't bring yourself to be angry, not at any of them. You're only angry at yourself, for allowing this at all. But then, when you think about it, a hole starts forming in you, because if you hadn't been stretched this way and that, the people wouldn't have stepped on you, and they wouldn't have been able to cross the river and they would all have drowned.
Is that love?
If it is, I'm shocked.
I'd been preparing for it for a long time, reading up on it, trying to experience it through my characters. Never once had a thought come across my brainwashed mind that it might unnerve me.
But unnerve me it did. And not just unnerve. It killed me. I was unprepared, as unprepared as I was when I thought I was prepared, when in actual fact, I wasn't. This thing just hit me smack in the face, and I was slammed back onto the hard concrete, knocking myself out, unconscious. But still in this state of floating dreams, I dreamt of goodness. This love that bound me and my dreams into one weaved itself in and out of my head, so that I couldn't possibly want to be well again.
And when I tried to come to my senses time and again, I couldn't. I was simply trapped in this uncatchable state of mind - so much so that I couldn't escape, and I didn't seem to want to escape. It was painful, being holed up there without moving, without thinking how much I had sunk inside. And yet, it always brought a smile to my face and never failed to make me feel glad that I'd been knocked down there.
Pretty impossible, isn't it?
Well, in this floating space, nothing is. You can fall in love with the person who keeps coming back to tread on you and jump on you and step on you and enjoy it, and worst still, fall in deep enough that when you realise you're not supposed to be falling, you can't go back up.
Like falling down from the sky. Such a thrilling, enjoyable experience... until you remember that you're going to land down smack on the ground and crush your bones, but then you can't fly up anymore. You're just going down and down and down and when you are about to hit the earth, you wish you'd never jumped off the cloud. But yet, you can't bring yourself to regret the decision you made, which gave you so much happiness and yet, pain.
It's pretty sad love has to be like that. Especially if the ground you fall on is hard.
If it was soft, you would simply bounce off of it and both of you would jump up and together on earth. But if it's hard, you're just going to die. And worst still, while you're reaching the land, you actually start expecting what type of ground you fall on - if it's hard or soft, or in between. That's when your instincts kick in, but it's too late.
People say it's never too late. Whatever you get yourself into, you can get out of. But that's not always true. Not in this case.
Not when you fall in love with someone, when you know you shouldn't, and you're thinking and hoping the ground will be soft as the cloud you jumped off, but it isn't. And you can't even be mad with the earth, because you know it's your fault. It's your fault for wanting to get off the cloud. But also, if you hadn't got off it, it would still be your fault, because you wouldn't have known that the ground was hard.
Love's like that. That pain. That nice. That sad. That happy. That regretful. That sweet. That angry. That beautiful.

--Reflection; Love