At 14, I thought the world was cruel.
At 22, I felt the world was cruel.
At 26, I see the world is cruel.
I wish I could tear out the algorithm in my brain that’s fed me fantasies and delusions ever since I could formulate my own thoughts and theories about love — what a character she is. Easy to find and elusive at the same time.
Heartbreak never guaranteed it would leave behind clean cuts. It can find you in a formless shape impossible to measure or separate. Where did it start and where does it end? Annoying, huh.
I would gladly take unfaithfulness over a heart that’s frozen over, overthrown by numbness.
Disappointment is everywhere. And unconditional love isn’t even of Earth. I know where to find it, but I keep running. Even though it’s bigger than my next deadline, boys who fooled me with their extravagant words, and the forces that keep the planets afloat and stars exploding.
