A Book of Escapades

I Am Not

I am not a writer who writes shitty things for fame. I do not write love because I want to. I write love because of reasons that had me crying for weeks, days, months, mourned for almost a year.

Yes, I've fallen in love. But I've also fell out of love. Yes, I've been hurt. But I managed to fix myself, which may seem impossible, but I did. Yes, I've cried over someone. But that didn't mean I was weak. Yes, I've moved on. But that didn't mean I already forgot him.

You see, Love is not something you get from a basktet full of candies. Love does not only come in Valentines Day, or during April Fools, or Halloween. Love comes when it feels like coming. That's how it plays its game.

But you don't get to choose if you get hurt. Love plays, and that's the worst part of it. It's magical, yes, but it's destructive. It stings.

Now I write, for love. For the love I've had, for the love I will have, and for the love I'll never have.