Love Life, Hate Kittens

There is a point in every girl’s life when she confuses adrenaline as passion and happiness as boredom.

There’s a negative stigma that surrounds ‘simple’ and ‘easy’. As if accepting that you have a perfect partner and perfect lifestyle somehow means you’re lacking something. As if accepting perfection is settling. A promising future, wealth, stability and traditions…all the things that you supposed to want. Having all of these things must mean you aren’t truly in love. 

Because doesn’t love mean drowning?

In amazing highs and excruciating lows. Those days of dark, difficult, distant pining HAS to mean something more. The pain must be proof that you’re MORE in love. That this intensity of roller coaster emotions somehow makes this love more legitimate. 

Then I realize how retarded this was. Just because something is easy, we’re quick to discredit it. The more difficult it is, the more value we place on it.

And then you realize you were only in love with the idea of love. The idea of a broken heart. Wanting to be a flesh and blood character in a tragic love song.

And you’re not an angst ridden adolescent anymore.