Le malheur de l’amour

“If he likes you, you’ll know. If he doesn’t, you’ll feel confused.”

The game of romance gets more complicated day by day that I refuse to be involved in it.

All these words that are not said or meant, actions that can be misinterpreted, and endings that can be messy don’t feel worth it to me.

I am not a cynic. I was not discouraged. And I am not afraid. Not of love. Never of love.

They say that love does not come easy, that you have to work for it. Does working hard for it include being a martyr? Does second guessing? Does trying and failing over and over again, wearing yourself thin? Why the confusion? If love is real, then why must it be complicated?

I think love can be peaceful. Like a swim on the beach on a sunny day. Where the waves caress you gently and the sun touches your skin. You are here. And you are secured.

I think love can be calming. Like a trek to the mountains on a cloudy day. Where the trees whisper sweet nothings. You are here. And you are safe.

I think love can be gentle. Like the sheets of your bed on a rainy day. The raindrops fill your senses. You are here. And you can rest on me.

Until it comes, I wait. For there is peace in being alone than the chaos that I don’t want or need.

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