You know the feeling, like... all your life, you've held on to this love, separate from the one you give to your family, friends, your first love, your great love. Sure, you never love a person the same way you loved another, but there's just this love, the one that breaks you. The core shaking kind. You feel like this is what you've held on to since you were born. And then you let it go, and it destroys you, but restores you.

Its this crazy whirlwind of all these emotions you never thought you could possibly feel at the same time. And people won't understand, of course. Society has barricaded our minds with its concepts of how things should be. I think I have jumped over this barrier for awhile now. I'm in my own little bubble. Loving it, hating it. Savoring it. Enjoying it. Regretting it (for a brief 5 seconds). Its a cycle. An addicting cycle. The very fiber it weaves are from threads stored in a higher shelf, the one you're not meant to reach. But I took a ladder, and climbed, and reached. And fell. And loved.

The depth of this love is unattainable by other minds. If you've never been there, you'll never understand. If you have, its totally different than yours. Its not for the same reasons. In the eyes of others its all the same. But you and I know better. We pushed through, against all odds. And boy, the adrenaline rush we get every time. Is that what gets us hooked? 

I don't know. But I'm glued.