Love's a Bitch, part 2...Let us backtrack...

So I've found the loophole. Not all love sucks. It's just the unrequited kind. I think that once you can get past that bullshit, and you actually find love that's returned to you in this crazy life we live, it's then that we can relax and feel good.
Tim and Kate have been at it for almost 6 months. Wow. For someone like Tim, who's had, let's face it, negative experience with females, I am both impressed and proud. Keep it up, Tim!
But it also gets me a bit down. THAT's what I want. I want to go off to college knowing that I left high school with a history, that specific two-way bond that is exclusive to anyone else that claims to share it. I want a love that lasts for years, but, in truth, never ends. I want the kind of love that digs itself into your hard skin, like initials carved into the trunk of a tree that's been standing, wounded, for decades. I want that kind of love.
I want the love that makes you think about everything you've ever done and why it was meaningless until you find her or him, the one. I want that kind of love.
I want the love that reflects in the weather, the kind when rain seems to be falling just to make the flowers grow, and it comes and goes most apologetically for interrupting the ceaseless sunshine.
I want the kind of love that makes Kings fall to their knees. That makes stars collapse upon themselves. I want the kind of love that pollenates every heart in the six-mile radius.
I want the love that she gives me, the only kind of love that I know, but the kind that rips at me the most when I'm down and alone, the kind that is the only weapon to pierce me. I want the love that can burn like acid, but it's always healable when you're with her. I want to be lost in her soul, even though I think I know every corner, I want to find her truths. I want her to bury her own pride and her own insecurities into me, and climb into me whenever she's cold and alone.
I want the kind of love that's like a room where you can go when you need to cry. I want to be the guy that you can run to when you feel like crying, just for the hell of it. I want to be the open door that will lock everyone else out, and warm you up from the cold.
I want to be your Paradise.
Because, let's face it kid, you're mine.

And wow. I just totally think I personified the phrase "waxing poetic." I'm out. Much love, Will.

Love's a bitch

So I took an poll on AIM the other night. I asked if you, the collective you form like y'all, had ever been in love. I got a flood of affirmatives, and a couple negatives. And then, it came to me. From that "special lady."
And of course, being the truthful person that I am, I told her that, yes, I had been in love. She asked with whom, and I told her. She. (But I didn't mention the "still totally am.") Later on, I asked her. She said yes she had, and, to my question of with whom, she replied "Who do you think ;) ".
And so I find myself back in the place I hate, the land of Middleness. It's the last exit between Desperation and Loneliness, a couple before Total Loss. It's that state of illusion where we are forced to survive.
Shit go to go. I'll finish later.