It’s addictive, apparently; bottled up
It could be sold in basements under shops,
Dark and seedy places people only go
When they’re desperate, in need.
Coming off the stuff is hard, I did it once,
I was in my early twenties when it crushed
My bones, my organs too.
I was sensible enough
To never try again.
But now I realise, I’ve lived a life
In shadows that were self imposed, not needed.
I couldn’t tell you why I let it run this long,
This shunning of a person I can love.
I guess I’m scared of something quite that strong
Flooding through my veins,
Rendering me blackout drunk
And living in those seedy basement shops.
Is it really sad that I can’t remember what love feels like? I got hurt when I was young and I had Noah and I just seemed to decide that I was never going to put myself through that again. And I know it’s because I’m scared but I’m not sure if it’s because I don’t want to get hurt again, or because I’m scared of getting addicted.
I know people who have that addictive personality that I have and they hop from one relationship to another; it’s as though they crave that early part of the relationship that is intoxicating and euphoric.
People say that if you were to bottle that feeling and sell it you would make a fortune. I’ve been addicted to something that comes in a bottle before and that really did end in tears. I just worry about opening myself up to that kind of risk again.
5 thoughts on “is it sad that i can’t remember love?”
There’s so much at stake when you open yourself up to loving someone, isn’t there? Especially if you’ve been hurt before, it’s easy to decide you’ll never put yourself at that risk again. And yet, love – healthy love – nourishes us…
I wonder which is worse, not remembering what love feels like or never having known at all?
These days, I think of easier love. The kind that is friendly and, well, kind. It might not happen; it might not exist. But I do get tired of going crazy and of all the consequences. Something deep and lasting and respectful. Possible? Preferable?
In retrospect I can wail, what I’d thought was love, wasn’t. But now, for the first time in my life I do feel it, how it is to love & be loved. Oh well, I only had to wait 69 years!