Love.

Something so simple, yet so dangerous.

Love is a single emotion that can simultaneously bring you the most beautiful memories while filling you with dread of past mistakes.

One can only reach love but by putting everything on the line, and whether or not that other person accepts can be so detrimental.

Love, to me, was this indescribable feeling. A feeling that could be so eternally beautiful. It was a light, a bond, a connection between two people who felt the same way and nothing or no one was going to stop them from pursuing each other.

Now, after a year or so, I have given up.

I have given up on that one emotion that I thought would make the world go round.

I am done putting myself out there just to get hurt. I am done being played and tricked. I am done justifying poor treatment with love. I am done being someone's play toy.

One thing I do love is my independence. How good I feel when I am not attached to someone. How the only person who could let me down is myself, and I like that. I like how I can make decisions for myself and do things others might hold me back from.

So, "love", I give up. You have done nothing to prove your worth, all you did was tear me down.

I walk away, now, and pray you don't come back into my life anytime soon.