What is love? A small four letter word. L.O.V.E.
Such a small word that's so easy to say can pack such a strong meaning. But it can also be a word packed with pain, reminding you of what one was.
When you're a teenager, you may "fall in love" with every boyfriend you have.
But really, you don't know love.
Not until you have what's real love. Maybe not even until you lose it.
Sure, you "loved" your boyfriend when you were in 8th grade. And when he dumped you for another girl you were oh-so "heartbroken".
I'm sure you've had these kind of relationships, and if you haven't, consider yourself lucky.
It hurts when it happens. But then you have such hate for that ex-boyfriend because he ditched you for someone else.
That wasn't love.
In my opinion, if you go through a break up with someone you "loved", then how can you hate them so much afterwards?
In my opinion, if I loved someone and they loved me back, if we had a break up, no matter what the cause was, it would be impossible for me to hate them. Sure, the first few days, weeks, even months would be hard and if it was a break up over a fight I would dislike them. But eventually, I would realise that hating him wouldn't get me anywhere. I'd still have respect for him.
And if he's moved on, the I'd be happy for him.
Because I love him.
Sacrifices have to be made in love, whether or not you may like it.
I've had to do this myself, and that's the hardest part.
Now, you may completely disagree with me. That's okay. I'm definitely not an expert. I disagree with myself sometimes.
But I do know what love is. Real love. I've experienced it twice.
You may or may not believe me at this point. You may think, "This girl is just rambling about what she doesn't know. She's never had love."
But I'd like to change your mind.
I know what it's like to love someone, and have them love me in return.
On the reverse, I know what it's like to lose love. To have it ripped from me. Torn from my chest and discarded in a ditch beside the road.
You may still think I have no idea, but you don't know my story.
m.r
