Love.
I wonder if it's enough. If it ever could be enough.. if it should be.

What if you hang on, because of love. What if you're clinging to something for the sake of love, and it's killing you? Even if love is enough to cling on, is it really worth it? Is love really happiness, or is it something else entirely? And why, if not for happiness, is love so sought after?
And if the choice between love and happiness- being separate- presented itself, should you be penalized for considering happiness? Or are you expected to drop everything for love, sacrifice smiles for the sake of something abstract?


I admit, I'm overworked. I'm tired, I'm lonely, and I'm confused. I'm frustrated and sad, and I don't even really understand myself. But somehow, I'm seeing some sense in all this.
And it terrifies me.