i never knew what love was.

and it's not because i haven't found "the one",
nor am i gonna say "until you came along".

i really have never felt what true love was.
the warmth it gives you,
the safe place, similar to a butterfly coccoon,
the kind of solace you get everytime you come back to it,
the sacrifice it comes with,
the smiles it brings.

a love so undeniably strong,
so unbelievably endless,
the purest form of love.

i have always envied the ones around me.
"why do they get to have the love i've always wanted?"
"i never ask for much, just to feel the same love that they are showered with every day"
these are only some of the many things
that i often quietly ask myself.

is it all my fault though?
am i just incapable of interpreting the kind of "love" that i'm receiving?
perhaps it isn't intricate enough?
perhaps it's just inarticulate, so different from others that it doesn't feel anything close to normal.

or is it because i put up such high expectations?
it's almost like i painted this whole picture of how i want it to be.
and in the end i get too blinded,
to see the reality behind the imaginery facade that i myself have built.

or perhaps it's just simply not... there.
maybe i'm right,
maybe i actually never knew what love was.

and maybe i never will.