Love evokes a strange kind of response in most of us. Everyone [including myself] is scared of their own capacity to love and care for others.
We hold it captive in different prisons of judgement, expectation and definitions.
Most intelligent men look down on the rest, knowingly or unknowingly, as incapable of such a higher/purer form of thought/feeling and build more sophisticated walls around themselves.
Fear of hurt is what drives it. We all are scared.
Too scared to even realise that the fear of losing what we have in this moment in the next moment takes even the present moment away from you.
Losing hurts. It cannot be justified at all.
But, you move on.
The stakes are much higher, now that you know what it feels like to lose.
Then why play at all?
Having had to let go of the person who showed me what I really am, just because of the values that made me myself, the irony and the hurt is cruel.
Still, I am running headfirst into more ironies, realising fully the consequences.
But, when I fly with these newly acquired wings of mine, I am invincible.
A while later the same wings shall fail me.
But, the flight is maddening, an addiction incomparable; The inevitable fall follows soon.
One day it will all be terminal.
Why all these risks then?
I'd rather live just a few years, flying higher and falling harder each time, than to spend a lifetime on the ground too scared to fly.
If you excuse me, I see a strong head wind coming my way.
Perfect conditions to fly.