So I decided to right about a major story of my life. One of those where when your friends are talking about relationships and you say “story of my life” and everyone laughs and thinks you’re kidding but you’re not. I would call it a tragic story but I don’t think stuff that happens to me is on the scale of a tragedy because well, no one else really cares. It’s interesting to look back and see how much a heart, my heart can take, thrown back and forth, round and round only merely because it wanted to find its experience, even if it was that crash course. I realize if I were to start naming a list of girls I fell in love with but never knew if they felt the same, would get to sounding kind of creepy. Yet I feel, I know there are others out there just like me who feel, who know exactly what I’m going through. It’s depression, in one of its most brutal forms, Love, why do I capitalize Love? Well its impact gives it a right to be capitalized, I believe. Even fairy tales recognize that Love is one of the strongest forms of magic, ‘true loves kiss will break any curse’, except in the real world Love is the curse. For some they find it easily or at least temporarily get a taste. For others, they bask in the shadow of friends, colleagues or bystanders who have what we all long for Love. And damn it do I wish happiness to those who get to watch the Love of their life from the other side, that other side being known as “friends”. One of the worst things in life are glimpses, glimpses, glimpses of hope, of a way out of the darkness, a way to break free of societies bashingly bashfully bragging rights of Love, a way to have it. Those glimpses tear you to shreds, and once you have one it almost seems like they keep striking, one by one, lash by lash, tear by TEAR. Most of us, none of us know how to handle it, it’s always an overwhelming feeling, you want to grasp it but then, but then it’s gone. And you know what’s worse than those glimpses, what’s worst is the feeling after, not knowing if that was your chance, not knowing if you could’ve finally felt what you heart desires, Love. It’s too late now, on to putting on the stitches that are just a placeholder until the next glimmer, sparkles way too hard, bursting the tares at the seams. Sometimes us, we , we like to lie to ourselves and say ‘well if there happy that’s what matters’, and in all seriousness, that is the dumbest thing to say to yourself ever, Love, if you stick around its sure as hell going to stick around. Your best bet is to get out of there before anyone…no one misses you. It’ll hurt of course, not as much as you standing by and watching, continuously feeling that glimpse overcast of Love. Now when you’ve had too much than you THINK you can handle, grab on tight to the thought that someone, somewhere, you’re in that glimpse. Love, it’s just trying to tell you, you’re meant to endure pain, sacrifice, Love is just a bonus you have to work for it and hell yes it’s going to be a journey.. but just know that somewhere, someone, is looking for a hope, hope that this story has an ending, a great one…that the story of my, our life isn’t just a pun thrown over to hide your wounds, that cut deep,  but that it has meaning, because it has to. The story of my life it just does.