Saturday, December 16, 2006

" Fate Decides Who Enters Your Life, Actions Decide Who Stays There............" 

...but what if you had no choice? who stays where? ( the heart) ooohhh, now I understand. I always like to contradict myself  0:) 

"The only people you need in your life, are the ones who need you in theirs." 

What a wake up call... Now you're talking...
"Love  is not love without pain, if you have not suffered, you have not loved" (my own quote) 

Love is a mighty strong word. One that, like a prayer  must be uttered in all honesty and humility. So sacred is that feeling, that word, that I just don't say it to just anybody, anyone. But the one who made me feel it, despite the desolation, despite the distance, despite the pain, despite the loneliness...  despite being unreciprocated.

Love and pain, a combination? Is it that hard to believe? Besides, who would want to torture oneself?

A person in love has the right to be happy. Everybody does. But this is not always the picture and it is a reality. Sad, but a reality nonetheless.

Love is not just there when you feel good because somebody "has intense feelings for you." Love is not there because you feel sensually attracted to someone, Love is not there merely for companionship. But love conquers all inspite, and despite a person's imperfections, geographical unavailability, every wrinkle, every white hair, every disease, every impairment, every halo or thorn, every storm, every challenge, every barrier.

I believe inspite of... I believe despite of... I loved in silence...
and I love even still...

Let me quote a Sonnet that I have memorized by heart since I was 12:
Sonnet 116
Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments;
Love is not love which alters when it alteration finds
or bends with the remover to be removed.
O, no, it is an ever-fixed mark
that looks on tempest and is never shaken
It is the star to every wand'ring bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
~William Shakespeare
But there is one true meaning of real love---
And it can be found in a book that hardly anybody ever reads.
Go figure what it is.


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