Love's Eternal Emptiness

Fantasy

She has the potential to tear my heart apart, drain all my happiness away, and leave a great hole in my soul. A soul that would be left so broken I would be obliged to spend the rest of my life fixing, only to realize, it will stay that way for eternity. A hole that can never be filled again. A hole the size of love. Do you know how big love is? Neither do I. The only certainty I have is that it is immeasurable. That it has the power to build an entire world of fantasy out of pure desire and imagination. That it has the power to distort your perception of happiness indefinitely. As if nothing ever existed, except a drowning sense of pain, regret, and misery, which will eventually lead to a state of complete emptiness and aversion. Love is futile. Love is desultory. Love is every other word there is to describe the lack of purpose it has. The more dramatic the word, the more true its meaning is.

It is not an emotion, it is not a feeling, it is energy, it flows with a life of its own, without instructions or direction, beginning or an end, it just happens. With a tiny drop of that energy, it might seem like a snap, your life will change forever, but when it fades (since it never ends), it will turn every belief you had into ashes and leave not one single piece of the person you used to be behind.