Aperently,
Love is like a battlefield- A constant fight, that appears to have no real meaning.
And similar to most wars love only leaves you with scars and stories to tell the grandchildren.

Why.
Why do I do this to myself?
Why do we love?
Why do we bring ourselves down for the sake of a few happy days, a few more memories.

My mind dances through the last 17 months and I find myself overcome with emotions: happiness, grief, confusion.

You left me.
I left you.
We fought back everytime.

I let my guard down, I let you destroy my army, I let you take over my land, I let you win everything.
I let love take over, I let it take my school work, my passions, my smiles.

And now, I find myself in a frantic hurry, desperately trying to rebuild broken bridges, I find myself panicking, I find myself alone when I need company most.

You.
You did this to me.
I gave you everything, you only gave me a fraction in return
and now, as you fail to recognise my existance you are still the sun, and I am nothing but a pointless planet.
I love you?
Honey, you don't know the meaning of love.