Love is like cracked stained glass – beautifully broken

We were all handed different perspectives and by now we’ve learned what follows when we mix diverse emotions and human experience – endless contradiction, like joyous affliction. Lifelines dropping doses that look quite different. my momma truly loved; it felt good. yours left, causing an adverse effect – anguish and shame. your father couldn’t see passed his own, mine the same. years later, countless failed relationships but ironically our partners are to blame. if you’ve lived this life the way they say you should, you’ve realized these preceding words are truth; even if hearing them doesn’t set right with you. now that we know this, what are we to do…

For me, L♥ve has been an awkwardly beautiful contradiction – passionate yet painful, fulfilling yet dissatisfied, freely confined etc. etc. clearly confusing right? nonetheless this voice in my head (don’t judge) keeps telling me that love isn’t supposed to hurt. unfortunately, i only need one hand to count the people who have never hurt me. now before you begin to get all down and out about this writing, this is not a sad love story. i don’t warrant sympathy and if you’ve had similar experiences i’m sure you don’t need anyone feeling sorry for your ass either. i don’t know about you but my soul desires answers and i hope the powers that Be are listening.

What’s the difference between love and true love? is there a part of love that’s fake and therefore someone felt the need to coin “true love?” is there a difference between loving someone and being in love? if so, what the hell is it? how do we distinguish love from the “stuff” people hand us beautifully wrapped and when you open it, its bullshit? is there a class we can take to make psychic abilities manifest so we could foresee the bullshit so we could Neo dodge that shit? (i’d pay extra.) does anyone truly know how to love without concurrently inflicting pain or are we all so messed up, no one really knows what love truly is? and this may be off topic but while we’re at it, what are fake friends? that’s like an oxymoron right? how can a friend be fake? inquiring hearts want to know.

Looking forward to hearing from you my awesome little fockers,

Tiffany Michellé