I desire serenity in a house of absurdity, a midnight heart trapped in fear of the dawn. How can I feel loved by someone who’s never known it, never felt freedom, or tasted heaven? I cherish the dream of forever-love, crave the day I’ll wrap my hands around it till forever falls apart.

There’s nothing more romantic than being loved by someone who doesn’t see you as a burden—until you make them see it and prove the weight of your fears. Destroying the leaves of hope from the stem gives you the comfort of facing what you know so well.

One of the happiest moments of my life is when someone steps in and fills the void with their presence. A presence I have craved all my life, without keeping my eyes wide open to see it. Someone to keep me steady, warm, and loved.

However, sadness pays me a visit when I realize I have raised the idea so high, to the point where it can no longer live up to what I’ve imagined. Do they fail, or am I the one failing? Self-destruction, or snapping out of a delusion that is?

Growing up with a void in your heart easily becomes an obsession. An idea that you have to fulfill at any cost. I craft these ideas instead of learning to live with the lack. I let them dig their roots and make a home. Am I this dedicated or simply losing my mind? Perhaps it’s both. Probably is.

Still, I wonder—if I let go, would I ever be able to feel loved or complete? Will I swim in an ocean of tears, feeling empty—or should I let myself face the void to find what fulfillment means? Can love bloom slowly, as the ocean quietly caresses the beach on a midnight full moon, or must I follow loneliness into oblivion?