Love to a child, was to be pleasant and caring. To promote sacrifice, and altruistic giving.

To me it was absent. It was to become an idea, fluid, with motion. I took in song, media, various sources to define this mystery. No real truth, only ideas of how things ought to be.

The idea came to be something to be sought, understood, then grasped. Lifetimes in years, many relationships, people, places all piled together in this mind. Forty cities, so much left behind and found. I am still unsure I have ever loved anyone. Love is said to grant happiness, stability, an answer.

Now I think I would like to redefine mine.

I do not wish love to be nice. I want it to be cruel. I want the weight of love to bear down on every breath. I do not wish to give anything, I wish for her to take it all without question, because I am simply her’s, no other reason than that she earned me, and I her.