Why is it that when we are deeply in love with someone (you know the kind; love burning as brightly as the sun and so deeply felt that it overpowers you and feels like it could burn a hole in your heart) that the better parts of you tend to naturally pop their heads up out of hiding, and the winter goes away. Joys are deeper, laughs are easier, tears flow sometimes from the seemingly most idiotic things (would you believe an episode of Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles?), and kindness takes over your actions against your will.
Personally I don’t understand it, even though I’ve had the luck to experience it twice in my life. Life seemed full of endless possibilities and no mountain couldn’t be jumped in two bounds, if not one. I wasn’t superman, but had a feeling while I was in love that I could overcome anything, even my reckless past.
Perhaps it was the heartache felt when it all came crashing down and the world seemed a little uglier than when it began. That bright burning sun turned dark and clouds formed to fuel the tears of my pain, and later my frustration and rage.
To this day I can still acutely feel both times when the sun went away and my world became a little darker. Have I bathed in it’s aftermath? Has my chosen misery doomed me from ever regaining that kind of joy? I pray not…
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