Sunday, 8 March 2009

Hearts.

"Half of my heart is a shotgun wedding to a bride with a newspaper ring/Half of my heart is the part of a man who knows he's never really loved a thing." JM.

Welcome to my heart, too. I'm not going to labour on who said this but this is what I've been feeling like. It's that emotion where you're fit to burst when you're not sure if there's enough time for everything you want to learn, read, write, experience but there's this nagging part of you that thinks that you've not got enough ambition for your dreams. It's that emotion that tangels itself into a battlefield when you're scared that you're never going to be able to love anything for long enough for either yourself or for the person you're with, yet you let yourself love far too easily. What do you do when you lose love? Where does it go? I was talking to a friend a few days ago about being in love, and he said that love was a choice. If you choose to stop loving, you'll stop loving. If you choose to love, and keep loving that person there's no reason for it not to last. Is it a choice? A decision you make to love one person.



source: le love, as always. thank you.



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