love

All you need is Love, and Love is all you need.

A Beautiful Mess
Like most people in life, I thought I had met my soulmate in high school. I was a Freshman at the time thinking I had it all. Now I know what you're thinking. You are pretty young to be thinking this way about another person and you're absolutely right. I'm going to answer those questions that linger deep inside you. No, we did not have any sexual contact of any sort. This statement includes kissing and holding hands. See as a teenager, I did not have my first kiss till I was 15. This charming gentleman came out of nowhere and slipped into my life only for him to slip out the next year. Like Snow White and Prince Charming, he practically swept me off my feet and led me through what I call A Beautiful Mess.
By Virginia Parker8 years ago in Humans
Mr. Right at the Wrong Time
Walking away from the love of my life was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. It wasn't a perfect relationship, there is no such thing, no two people will agree on everything all the time. That's just the way it is. It wasn't that we fought all the time, in fact we hardly ever fought hard over anything save for minor disagreements. It wasn't that either of us were unhappy in the relationship or had strayed in any way. We were the perfect couple, who met at the wrong time. Although, perhaps meeting at the wrong time is a strong statement, having the history that we do was the solid foundation upon which we would later build a strong and healthy relationship.
By Morgan Wright8 years ago in Humans
Parenthesis...
I think all my life I haven't been deprived of love. I have, as a matter of fact, met plenty of people who've loved me for a while and introduced me to several facets of human emotions that I think I'm always going to cherish till my last breath. But I've failed so many times for real and have felt so much pain every time I let go of someone, that at some point of time I honestly began doubting my efficiency as a human being. I've doubted my capabilities and invariably assumed that something was severely wrong with me and me alone. And it is the worst thing you can do to yourself, I tell you. Because all my life, I haven't really wanted someone I can live with. In fact I wanted somebody I cannot live without. I never wanted anybody to just love me like everybody does. I wanted a little bit of madness. A bit of teenage craze even in my twenties. I have met people who had loved me, but not people who would give up on their dearest of things to be with me. Not people who couldn't survive without me. Somehow they all managed. And I learnt eventually.
By Ria Dutta8 years ago in Humans
Let Me In
What do you do with a heart you can’t feel? Who do you give it to? You give it to the girl you want to try for, you give it to the girl who makes you want to feel. My heart is so hardened, my heart is so cold to the feelings that create vulnerability. I chose not to feel, not to care, not to worry about anyone other than myself until I met her. I met her when I was at my lowest, when the only thing keeping me alive was the lack of motivation to kill myself. I never thought I would get out of it. I never thought I’d find someone to make me forget how it felt to be cold, forget how it felt to be lonely, to not care, to not worry. She ripped herself open and folded me up inside of her, I toured through her bloodstream, stopping at every point in her body where she had been wrongfully touched. Where her parents had hit her too hard, pulled her too hard. Where they left bruises and welts that stung her for days. Where boys had laid their hands where they did not belong. Where the kisses were empty and the touch was numbing. Where girls had thrown words that hurt more than bricks. Where the sticks and stones had been thrown. When I got to her heart and I saw that the red had turned to purple in some spots, how deep in its pit the colors were changing, from red, to blue, to purple, to black. All over were bruises of different sizes that weren’t healing fast enough. I saw that her heartbeat had many pauses. I saw that her lungs struggled to rise and fall and then I knew; I wasn’t the only one who had been ostracized and bullied. I wasn’t the only one who knew what it meant to be broken, to continuously try to repair the leaks and the tears that other people have so easily let happen. I saw that she was broken and scarred. I saw that this girl, who smiled at everything, who easily found the beauty in all things, was hiding so much from the people she wouldn’t let in. I climbed up from her heart and danced around her collarbones until I made my way inside of her brain. I saw the movies of every time she had been hurt, of every time she had been lied to, been beaten, broken, and used. I saw the lists of reasons she wanted to die, of the many things she disliked about herself. I saw the images of her past. Amidst the chaos, I found her dark room, hidden away behind the bustle of negatives. I opened the door and wandered in. It was so cold, and it was so dark and quiet. I flipped a switch and the red glow from an overhead light illuminated just enough for me to see wires from one end of the ceiling to the other, with a myriad of positive pictures. I was captivated, I spent most of my time inside this room. Finding my favorites, finding the ones that made me smile even though I wasn’t there when the memories were created. I decided to stow a few images in my pockets and left the room. When I stepped back into the turbulent atmosphere of her negatives, I noticed them stop. All of the movies paused and the images stopped swinging and twirling around simultaneously. I felt the pressure on me, the pressure to put back the positives and let the negatives have full control. I ran past them trying to find an exit. I climbed down around her ocean blue eyes and slid down the slope of her button nose and landed on the tip of her tongue. I could feel the humidity from all of her embarrassing stories, the reddish pink colors on the walls of her mouth resembled her rose blushed cheeks. I knocked on her teeth, signaling her that I was ready to come out. She pulled me out, the presence of her unease was thick in the air. I presented to her the pictures I stole from the room she had desperately tried to keep hidden. I offered them to her, she was too kind, too smart, too beautiful to run from the things that could make her happy. I showed her how they made me smile, how she made me smile. I showed her that I accepted her bruises and her scars. That I accepted the parts of her that people have tried so hard to deny. I pulled her in for a hug and allowed her to fall into my bloodstream next.
By A Ledesma8 years ago in Humans
Our Story
From Fairytale to Nightmare What started off as a beautiful, romantic fairytale love story, turned into a horrifying and devastating nightmare.
By Helen Keller8 years ago in Humans
My Blue Eyed Girl
You will always be my blue eyed girl. My Blue Eyed Girl She was my unexpected love. Who was she? How did she come to be? What did she feel when she first laid eyes on me? Until this day, I still don't know how she felt the first time she looked at me or how she came to be or who she truly was. All I know is that the first time I laid eyes on those beautiful blue eyes, those "butterfly" feelings you get in the pit of your stomach hit me like a ton of bricks. My heart raced. Breathing was heavy. My brain running wild. Every emotion was just... lost. It was all lost because of her. Those deep blue eyes made my whole world stop. Just for a brief moment, all I saw was her sitting across from and me standing, laughing like an idiot. WHO WAS SHE?
By Abby-Icy Marie8 years ago in Humans
Take It
I was lying there on my back staring at your ceiling. My wrists burned from how tight you'd fastened them to the metal part of your bed frame and I couldn't breathe. I wasn't sure what to do next. I felt nothing. Not the kind of nothing where you're going through a depressive episode and you feel like nothing kind of nothing. I could not feel a single thing. I didn't feel cold. I didn't feel sad. I didn't feel scared. I felt nothing and in that moment I truly got to experience what being dead felt like. It's an empty abyss with nowhere to go and you don't feel a thing, but you keep waiting for something to happen and it never ever does. You just die. You can't hear anything. Every sound collides together so fast that you can't hear it. For a while, I stayed there thinking I was screaming. I started hearing myself repeat the same line over and over and over and over again. "STOP PLEASE THIS HURTS" "PLEASE STOP" "PLEASE..."
By Elizabeth E.8 years ago in Humans
Naked
April was when we met. You were dating my best friend and I was dating yours. It seemed you knew her pretty well and made her happy.
By L. Welch8 years ago in Humans
You Were Real
I didn't know exactly what love was until I met you. It goes from feeling the wind upon your skin to smelling your cologne on your neck. You were real.
By Miranda Obregon8 years ago in Humans
Sign of the Times
You never know how much you truly love someone until they’re gone. Esme was the love of my life for as long as I could remember. After high school we got an apartment together, which was the best choice I’ve ever made. She was the happiest girl in the world. She’d always have her long brown hair tied up into a bun on the top of her head. Her bright blue eyes would shine with excitement whenever she was with me. She was by far the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.
By Julia Barker8 years ago in Humans
Love and Loss
Love and loss go hand-in-hand. Even ask the Earth, for she has fallen in love with the moon, yet never gets to be remotely close to him. She watches him as he awakens to take over the sky, while she waits for dawn to peek through. Life and Death have been in love for as long as the world has been intact. Life sacrifices so much for Death. Everything in her possession is handed over to Death at some point, and she has no say in when they’re to be given up. But he cherishes her bearings, keeping every single last one of the lives she’s given him. Life and Death however, will never truly be one.
By Lyza Giroux8 years ago in Humans
11th Muse
The cursor on the screen blinked steadily, waiting for the architect to construct his next piece of work. To have words produced in some order, in a form that would give the blank word document company.
By anthony farina8 years ago in Humans