vision / d.s

prolouge / 0.0

Love.

What is it? Is it a feeling of great liking, or extreme obsession? Is it adoration at it’s finest, or simply a myth? Love is complicated. It’s a word people use to reassure that they wont leave, that their liking for the other is too great, but I’ve seen people who said the words everyday for fourteen years of my life walk away from each other. I saw the two most important people in my life push aside the feelings of love and leave each other. It was heartbreaking to know that it was real, you could see it in their eyes. It was love… or at least I though it was. I didn't know that my father was having an affair, nor did I know my mother was struggling to keep our family together. Locking herself away and smoking her health away, welcoming death. After my dad left my mother was a mess, continuously crying and drinking, hardly sleeping. All memories and pictures having on the walls of our house killed me, like someone was playing with my mind. I smashed them, ripping hem off the walls screaming and crying.

I didn’t realise that my family, that I always thought was perfect and unbreakable, would shatter. I didn’t now it would shatter my parents’ relationships with me, being with mum five days a week ad dads two.

My relationships with people, not knowing who's lying and who's not.

My idea of love, what it is and why people believe in it if it’s just causes heartbreak.

But most of all, I didn’t know it would shatter my vision.