Love real?

Countless journal entries

Dating back to a time

When hormones

Started wreaking havoc

With my body

My mind

My confidence.

Single word entries

That started and ended with

‘LOVE’

Just

‘LOVE’

Romantic love.

Eros!

So elusive

That I could not even write of it.

So elusive

That I pondered its very existence.

Pondered I did

Until at last, I ‘knew’ it wasn’t true.

Lists of great romantic poets

Spoke to me of men and women

Of beautiful minds

And great imagination.

Writers of insanely beautiful

Passion-fiction.

Pondered I did

At how the mind could dream

Of such deep emotion,

And why it is we long

For this Illusory state

Pondered I did,

Until at last, I stopped apondering

And nestled comfortably

In my freedom from it.

And then one starry night,

As would the poets say,

Into my life it crept.

I doubted it.

I feared it.

On more than one occasion

I ran from it.

But up into the darkest caverns

Of my mind

Did it follow me.

And like an uncontrollable

Osmosis permeated

My existence.

Pondered I did

Over my own sanity.

Until, at last,

I succumbed.

And I loved

And I love

And it is insane.

And I write

Of this insanely deep emotion.

And still I fear

But no longer do I doubt.

Like what you read? Give Colette a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.