Love.

That's the funny thing about it.

You say love is at it's worst when it doesn't love at all.

When the one you love, does not love you back.

That's when it hurts like a living bullet.

Every minute it comes blasting through your heart.

Every thought of where his hands had roamed.

Where his kiss has brushed.

Where his arms have been.

Around yours.

Around you.

Around someone else?

You say it hurts when they don't love you back.

But love hurts the most when it's full of love, but they're not there at all.

It's when every part of you aches for someone else.

Not because they aren't yours anymore,

because they still are.

Not because they aren't loyal to you,

because they still are.

Not because you don't see them,

because you still do.

At every corner,

behind every head,

in every smile,

hidden beneath the eyes.

You think it hurts when you see them with other people?

Try not seeing them at all.

You think it hurts to know that they're happy when they're not with you?

Try not knowing how they're feeling.

You think it sucks bumping into them every now and then?

Try not feeling them around anymore.

You see,

people say it's better to have loved and lost,

than to not have loved at all.

But sometimes,

when you have loved,

and someone else has loved you back.

And you have lost,

because they're not around,

they no longer exist,

they'll never come back.

Because they're six feet under the ground.

And the closest you can get is their names carved on a stone.

Gone too young, forever missed.

That they'd never know the flowers you got them.

Or how each day is empty because they aren't there to match against.

Your wishes, your hopes, your plans, your dreams.

They'd never know the smell that lingers on your clothes.

Or the little things you see that make you cry for no reason.

The way someone pushes back her own hair.

The way someone slings his bag over one shoulder.

How everywhere you go,

you see him in every shadow.

You expect, you wish.

You mistake.

And you crave that 5 seconds when you wake

where you don't remember anything,

and your dreams are swimming in your mind in a muddle.

Before reality comes swinging it's hammer.

And bashing it's way into your delirium.

You'll understand, that in a way.

Day after day.
The best, would be to not have loved at all.