Warning: Just…you have been warned.

As you may know, and as you may have noticed if you’re an avid follower of my blogs, I have the most distorted thought on the concept of love. So when Blog Talkers came up with the following prompt, I decided to elaborate more of said distorted thought, probably at the expense of getting my head bit off, but might as well seeing as no matter what I do, I’m gonna still get patronized for it.

Love. What does love mean to you? Do you feel like you have found love? Are you still looking? Do you believe in love at first sight? Why or why not? Why do you think people try so hard to find love?

My distorted thought on the meaning of love is like this: “come on, let’s get in bed and let me fuck the shit out of you”. Love is one of those words that is thrown around all willy-nilly with no true meaning to it other than to get someone in bed. “Baby, I love you” can sometimes translate to “Baby, I wanna bone you, then leave you scarred”. Why would I feel this? I’ve had it done before. My last ex who I refer to as him actually did that. I was in love with him; I loved him, and I thought he felt the same. I mean, he did say it, right? A few months later, I found out that when he said it, it was all a ploy to get in my drawers, and when he didn’t get it, he moved to someone else. Hence, the scorned lover behavior and blogging. I won’t say what I’d do to his private parts if I could get away with it, but trust me; it’s not good, and I hope that whoever he messed with saw it beforehand.

The other thought is the complete opposite, probably from the romantic in me (yes, I have that part in me!).

When you get butterflies just thinking about the person.
When you blush excessively when someone mentions their name.
When you wake up in the morning, the first thought is on him.
When you worry when you don’t hear from him in a little while.
When you and him have so much in common that it’s not easy to run out of things to say.
When you can tell him things you wouldn’t dare tell anyone else, even your own parents.
When he tells you things that he wouldn’t dare tell anyone else, even his own parents, you feel flattered.
When the day ends and you’re getting ready to go to bed and if he’s not there with you, you feel really empty inside.

…That, my friends, is love.

With my ex, I was in love. I got extremely hurt and pretty much sworn off all guys and stricken the word “love” and any word that can be associated with it off the list of my vocabulary. Love at first sight? Fuck that shit. Soulmates? What? Falling in love? Not my ass. My perception of the concept of love was 10 times worse than it is now. I thank The Writer for most of that. I wasn’t able to understand my whole vibe thing with him. It took some events of what has transpired in the past few weeks to completely figure it out. I was in denial mainly because after what happened with him, I vowed to stay away from falling in love. But in truth, I can admit that I’m in love with him. No, this has nothing to do with the neverending dry spell. I feel comfortable in his presence. I couldn’t express what I felt verbally, so I did it through writing. I spilled my heart out to him, and I immediately regretted it. Do I still feel that way? Yeah, because I think I scared him away, even though I said nothing about falling in love with him. And that, my friends, really sucks. So yeah, I found love twice, if you want to count the first one for anything.

People try to find it because society pretty much shoves it down your throat. Think about it–all these couples you see on TV, movies, even outside your house. Some people just don’t care whether or not these couple are truly happy; they’re happy because they’re in a relationship. I know that in order for my life puzzle to be complete, the love has to be there. So while I am looking, I’m not taking just anyone, which is probably why I’ve been even kissless for this long. I figured that if I’m going to share anything remotely romantic with anyone, I better be in love with him, and vice versa. I’m one of those people who will turn down several offers just because they don’t feel that kind of connection. Some people want to be held and fucked–without any strings attached. I want to be held and fucked, but I rather be held and fucked by someone who will treat me the way I should be treated, and someone who accepts me for who I truly am.

If you don’t hate me already, happy early V-***. (Yes, I censored that forsaken holiday! I hate that with a burning passion!)