STEAMPUNK11

Love and Death. An emotion as well as a metaphor marred together, for all intents and purposes, for the glory.

Love, you have always been a clutch for me during times of joy and times of sorrow. It is with a heavy heart that I am unable to make it along the journey with you. I am broken hearted, you see. I have known no better friend since the first day we met. It is all about me. Yet, I hope you continue in supporting me. Crushing.

I hate that I am selfish. Still, it’s the hate that is intoxicating. Yes. Hell can wait. In a somewhat hazy and daunting journey, the devil may care. This is the limit. You are my friend and, dear reader, my guide and advisor. I have embraced your disaster, when the rules of my life have spun out of control.

Hate. I am out of control. It’s the consistency, the seduction that has given me willpower that none can match. You make me believe that I am normal, even when nobody else would believe in me. Did I tell you, I was a weird child. But I digress.

Love. You turned me into confident-difference. You have never made me feel alone. Your encouragement has kept me going this long and will continue long after both of us are gone. I am raising my family with the virtues I’ve learned over the years from my confident-difference.

Love and Hate.  Together we stand, divided we fall. Together, all can rejoice. Divided, the Ying-Yang. Death, I wish for nothing more than the welfare of love – our nurture, mortality, and respect for the person that we created, that completes us. Together, we will make the world a better place. After all, relationships are all about opposites. It’s science, stupid.