What is love

Prologue

Prologue

An intense feeling of deep affection- that's the definition of love...but what is love? Is love a pleasant warmth of this so-called deep affection? Am I supposed to be happy when I love? Then tell me why my heart hurts with just a glimpse of him. Tell me why I have to share him with everyone else even though I'm the one that loves him the most. He can't see this, can he? He's blind, foolish, mine... Just like how Romeo, struck with heartbreak, laid his eyes upon young Juliet... Does it start or end with infatuation? I think there are only three words to describe love: tragic, complicated, heartwarming. Most people might call me melodramatic, but they are unwise. They are the ones that see flowers and rainbows running around their made-up description of love. Pitiful. I pity them, but I also envy them; to be able to imagine such happiness, how could one not be envious?

The police ask stupid questions.

"Why did you do it?"

"Was it worth it- you took someone's life!"

No, I didn't, she died in proof of my love... Those silly cops. They're always thinking they know justice, always wearing a badge on their chest and a gun on their hip. To their foolish questions, I reply, "Love."

Some call me sick, because of what I 'did'. So I'm sick for saving my love and protecting him...? I don't mind taking the blame, as long as he's ok.

I spit on anyone who ever dares call me sick, a monster, a psycho. He was mine, everyone knew that, he knew that. How could I not do what I did, he was too beautiful to get caged up. With his doe eyes and that bright smile, with all 32 teeth, as straight as the horizon, who knows what would've happened. When his pink lips would part and his eyebrows would shoot up on his forehead after hearing something funny. Then that velvety voice, as smooth as cream, would come out suffusing the room with pure bliss. Those lowly humans, why should they be able to hear that voice, that sound, that utter beauty? Who are they? Nothing.... Little maggots who thought – hah – that they would be able to see my angel, my beauty, my love.

So, what else could I do? I had to take matters into my own hands. Having contemplated this with every being, every molecule and atom, of which I was made of, asking myself millions of questions, most left unanswered and some filled in with foolishness to ease my mind about the actions I was about to undertake....