The Game

Love doesn’t exists. . . love is played. And I don’t mean “love doesn’t exists” in a “I just got my heart broken by a boy, and I hate boys because I’m 12 kinda way”. I mean love really does not exists. I know this whole post could be debated and torn up and down. And, I probably will change my mentality tomorrow, or a year from now… who knows. But, at this moment in my life, I feel like love is only a game that is played. All we want is to manipulate someone. We want to change them, we want them to change us. We want to have power over them; we want them to have power over us. We like to know what makes them tick and what turns them on. In a sense, I used to think it was love. Wanting to know their minds? But now, love is only a manipulation. I used to always want to marry a writer. Why? because I knew that to be a writer you have to exercise your mind. You’ve most likely had to gone through something in your life where writing became the only way for you to express yourself. THAT excited me. And don’t get me wrong, there is nothing necessarily wrong with any of these things I am saying. It is the principle behind it. I wanted to marry a writer because I wanted to pick at their minds and maybe change them. Maybe set them free. Make them realize I would understand their emotions, not just the paper. I realize that love is selfless and love is pure and all of this. But, in this world.. in this generation is anything realistically pure? There is no way . There is always a motive behind people’s actions. Mind you, I am NOT a fan of people complaining and “hating” life and relationships and all of that good stuff hah. I am just a realistic thinker. I am young, I am immature, I have a lot of growing up to do. But, if all love is good for is being played…not sure I want much to do with it.

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