I’ve been wondering lately why we love.
I’m reading all these poems and manifestos on the nature of love and beating broken bloodied hearts. This is of course, is to assume we have a choice. Can we choose whether or not to love? Can we choose who we love? or how we love?
Because sometimes you love me in bits and pieces and scenes and moments. You just hang on to the ones you like. And sometimes it feels like you love me in seasons, deciding to cast off at times. I’ve seen you love me briefly, for only afternoons at a time. Do you remember that one day on Los Angeles? When we said we wouldn’t love each other anymore? Sometimes I think you love me like a lifetime. Other days I wouldn’t be surprised if you traded it all in. I keep watching other people tread water in love, drown in love, dry up and lay on salty land in love. It’s like they can’t see themselves clearly, looking through fogged lenses, cracked down the center, smudged in ideology. I am no different. We are no different than them. So, I will ask you again, how do you love?
THE LITTLE BLACQUE BLOG 
I love like I can’t go to Vermont and listen to the radio without getting depressed because that’s where she wanted to live. Or see a horse, or VW bug. Or cope with the fact that she didn’t care as much as I did and accept the fact that the things she said weren’t as truthful as I’d wanted them to be. And in a way that leads me to a point of insanity, a lack of psychological control that I don’t want to revisit by reading what I wrote in the notebook thats three feet from my face right now. I don’t want this pain I’ve got from going to Vermont today to get any worse by seeing how I scribbled half-thoughts because I was unable to complete sentences without breaking down. I love by allowing a part of my consciousness that I didn’t know existed to be completely annihilated and very slowly rebuilding the pieces so that I can start all over again in a few years having learned a bit about damage control. But having learned, most importantly, that I could love again after the first one, which I thought was impossible.
adam- I am blown away by the beauty and honesty in this. thank you.
Thanks, its pretty rad to get some positive feedback from a side of me that I don’t really show anyone. The fact that you inspired me says more than I can about your blog 🙂 I got here from your instagram, mines @insta_stoke.
I love like you love me. I love like I love smoking weed and riding horses. I love like I can’t go to a beach or think of one or remember how they smell or picture me in the sand without you there. I love when I say I’m stoked but I hear your voice come from my mouth. I love like you loved me. I love like a broken CD, it skips where it’s weak. And I hate that I feel that our love may be lost because happiness comes at a price but who sets the real cost? I love how your happy and I love how you’ve found your true home. But I hate that I’m scared that I’ll end up all alone, I want to come see you but I know I can’t stay and I don’t know how to ask you if you’d ever move away. These thoughts have driven me beyond crazy, I’m sure you’ve wondered where The fuck I’ve been, but I assure u I’ve gone no where I’m just trapped in my head. I want you. I need you. But I don’t wanna ask you to leave dude. So I haven’t called I haven’t texted I’m just scared of what is next. Im scared of a lot of things I think scared I do best.
winderfully spoken. true at heart. thank you so much