The art of love, the disability of life.

Paralysed by their absence, drunken with the love. This is what happens when you love someone a million miles away. Each moment is never taken for granted in their presence. The craving to be close, just to look in their eyes. To kiss them. Its like heaven when it finally happens. And when they are gone its like it wasn't real. Alone at home I sit. Waiting to smell you. Love you.

Have I abandoned all to be graced with your presence? No.... But I am close. Take me back to the moment where I lay all my affairs in "your" hands. I love feeling loved. But this is a crucial point where I need to remain strong. Love can be crazy... You see it happen all over again. The moments where you overlook something you disliked in the other, then the thought of "Is this where I am supposed to stand my ground? Or do we overlook it in the name of love?"

I was raised to believe that we must let people be people. We are imperfect, so how can I not love you for your defaults in character when I myself have defaults. If everyone thought this way would it be war, or peace?