Love and Me

Love and  I aren't friends. We might even say we're frenemies.
Because you know, I do love LOVE. I enjoy its company, I adore its thrills.
But Love always tricks me into looking at the wrong direction, finding the wrong people
And made me experience both the best and the worst when I fell in love.
Or so I thought.

I don't mind loving people, I love people, maybe as much as I hate them.
I don't mind having friends, having a family even though the circus is the same.
The joy of adding a new member to the family we choose is exciting and terrifying at the same time.
The excitement over someone old who is still in our lives is worth the efforts we put in said relation

The pain is stinging the same too. But I take the risk because I know how to handle it.

Love and I aren't friends. We might even say we're frenemies.
Because when Love makes me fall in love, it is always a glorious chaos.
A blender of fear and excitement, of hopes and disappointments and rare success.
It's a rainbow of emotions, maybe we could say the emotional spectrum of the lantern corps.
I feel as much as Hal Jordan than Larfleeze than Star Sapphire and how could I forget,  Saint Walker?

But maybe I am much more a mix of Sinestro and Atrocitus,
The perfect harmony between rage and fear for I fear to lose it all and I am angry at my old losses.
Maybe it has more to do with how I feel about myself rather than how I feel about the other.
The other is always up there, in the sun, bringing me hope and giving me unconditional love.
But I still have to Batman my way into it, don't I? Question everything, investigate.

Maybe it's how it should be, protect your heart and prepare for the worst.
However, preparing for the worst prevented me to taste the better.. mostly because I do not believe...
I do not believe it does exist. How could someone genuinely love me?
How could someone genuinely walk the walk with me and make the efforts I need?
How could I be sure I wouldn't end up distraught like I used to?

And from the shambles of my heart, it's the void you'd find instead?
Am I not one step closer to feeling numb? feeling nothing because I am tired of it all?
Or are these just reasons to avoid that conversation with Love?
Because I want to make Love sit and have a serious talk with it.
I want Love to be honest with me, show me the struggle, show me the scars, show me the cracks.
I want Love to show me hope too, show me how to fix the breaches, how to fill that heart with Love.

I want to ask Love about me. How do I do to finally love myself?
How do I  fight back the skeletons in the closet, the nightmares waiting to happen?
How do I get to ignore the scary voice in my head, the hurtful words I throw at myself?
How do I love myself? I wish to ask Love, but I know I can't.
Like Magneto, it always escapes, promising to come back with a vengeance.
Like Xavier, I allow that to happen, because I know that deep inside, it's misunderstood.
Maybe twisted, maybe wrecked up, maybe the lenses I use to look at it are deformed.

Or life forged me this way, past traumas I can't seem to overcome.
Or maybe I am simply not ready, the ladder is already there, I just need to see it, take the first step.
All of this is chaos in my head...

but "Chaos is a ladder", so I should climb that one and see what comes next.