Love's B-Side.

Growing up I
believed a great, incomplete
truth.
fantasized & sacrificed
every moment on long bus rides
and nighttime silences
wishing and longing for the day
when I would find
a great love that would
suddenly
make my existence easier.

blame it on my naivety
or the fabricated, woo-like
factor in the media.
no matter the source of fault,
I wanted it more than
my  next breath:
someone who I'd love so much
that I'd breathe my last for.

I was completely unaware
of the harsh, unattractive half to Love.
Its gritty & disheveled B-side;
where you're pushed to the
outer realms of your sanity.
And you endure pain unimaginable;
the kind that mirrors the martyr
[but for different reasons]

Fear uncovers past wounds
of abandonment and heartache
Yet,

...I still want Love.
More than I did as a child.
And having sat down and counted the costs,
I still choose to pursue;
fantisizing with the same bright-eyed
enthusiasm.
Only now, it's matched with an inner fight
to endure whatever comes.