The Lost Language of Love

it is said that those who love the hardest hurt the most yet, if love was all it is cracked up to how does one feel pain. those who love aren't supposed to feel pain, feel like they are being pulled by every limb as if in a perpetual episode of a horrible sitcom in a language you cannot even understand. thats all love is a language nobody can even understand but yet we are all trying to speak it, trying to learn it from our parents who are a bad example because they were bored with one another and got a divorce, in movies in which love prevails because they are fiction yet they fail you because you'll realize kissing frogs will not bring your Prince Charming, the two strangers on the street holding hands are a bad example because she will find out about the woman he sees when he goes on business trips in southeast

so when you look me in my face at 18 in the middle of the summer where we both are covered in sweet sweat condensed from free time and infatuation you will grab my hand, stare me in my eyes, pull me in close and say "i love you" ....you will tell me that you love me and i will not believe you.

you see, when my father told my mother i love you she believed him,

when they both underwent holy matrimony and said i do, they believed each other

and when i was born to the two who loved me since the day i was released from my mother's cocoon

i believed that the 3 of us would never fall apart.

i believed in love like no one else ever had

but when i turned 10 and they tried to explain to me "feelings charge" and how "sometimes people grow apart" and I didn't want to hear it

I didn't want to believe people could fall out of love or that love could last so long and not have even been real from the start, i didn't want to believe it.

I just don't understand how after 1 wedding, 2 kids, 3 dogs moving twice, going on countless vacations and eating dinner together every night AT THE TABLE to just calling it all off and being left with absolutely nothing besides memories and everything you own being split up 50/50

its hard......

i'm talking far to much but long story short

when you look me in my face at 18 in the middle of the summer where we both are covered in sweet sweat condensed from free time and infatuation you'll grab my hand, stare me in my eyes, pull me in close and say "i love you"...you will tell me that you love me

and i will not believe you.