This is an unedited ramble spewd directly out of my heart. Its depressing and mellancholic...I know. Hope you enjoy.

Is there such a thing as love? I think I’ve seen it, I think I’ve felt it; but why has it been denied to me for so long. I mean, love is a connection between two people. Love is the essence that binds two souls and elevates them, but why is it so fragile? I believe it is a mischievous thing, yet it can be made to help us, to make us understand how two people can come together and become a single entity full of light. Nope, it doesn’t work like that. You have to nourish it, you have to make it grow; you have to let it sink inside your heart and flow. But if love is there and it’s strong, how can it diminish and wane into the winter that I so humbly call home? Why do I and so many others like me have been denied the precious fruit of a life full of love? Why do we starve in this barren land devoid of the simple yet elusive illusion that is the love of a person in our heart? And yet, even more so than the hunger, love toys with us. We give ourselves to it, it fills our hearts with empty promises and then lets us go and leaves us cowering in the dark creases of the lonely night. No, I believe that love is not meant for me, such a powerful emotion is not meant for me, yet why am I filled with it to the point of overflow, even when no one is there to give it back.