I don’t know what love is, any more than the next bloke. But I know what it means to me.
Love is a lifestyle. Love is a series of decisions you make to bring yourself closer to someone you connect with. Love is a sacrifice. It is a struggle and a hardship and a release and a comfort and a death and a life. It is life. It should not be easy. It doesn’t have to be hard though. Love is a give and take. It is anger and peace and happiness and sadness and grief and hope.
But it is never violent. There should be no rage. Hate does not belong in love. Love should be a scary thing. It should never terrify. If that should happen to you… I am so… So so so sorry.
It will not be that way for long.
These last few nights I’ve written some short stories based on some writing challenges I found. They were hard. This week’s challenge was, instead of 1000 words, write a complete story in 100. That… is daunting.
All three challenges I have written a story for. I have only posted one. But they all contain dark elements that have given me pause. All three pieces I wrote in one sitting with very little editing done to them.
Going back over them and reading them for what they are, I have to wonder…
What is this dark thing that has grown inside of me that wants to get out? What did it grow from?
Help me get it out.


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