The Spike Triptych

by Milarca C. Kruse

Love's Bitch

Love is a very strange emotion. We feel it without any desire to feel it. It just jumps at us right out of the dark, without any notice. Yet we go through life craving it just as much as water or food or air in a most elemental manner.

Love lifts you closer to the divine and lowers you to the almost primitive.

For love one will allow oneself to be lied to, to be humiliated and hurt.

True love that is betrayed feels like your heart is burning in your chest, and that gives birth to tears made of acid.

A spurned heart is a more powerful driving force than hatred or fear or money. It will make you do the most unthinkable acts just to drive out the voice in your head that lives with the pain of not being loved back.

All one desires is for another to lose their breath every time they see us the way we do when we see them, to have their heart jump up and down at their mere thought. To have their loins feel like coals as a response to our voice.

To wonder quietly and secretly if one would be so lucky as to wither and wrinkle with that person.

To live your dreams with them, and see yourself with that person only naked under rainforest waterfalls and winter wonderlands and sophisticated balls dancing to Strauss.

To share your triumphs and feel their pride. To be held and rocked by them at the fall of a defeat.

To feel whole and complete and at peace. Love is the true ying and yang, the true meaning of chi.

To give up the whole world to feel their skin next to yours at night under the covers.

To cherish their every breath. To see them transformed in your eyes from human to preternatural and ideal.

Love, so easy to give but ever so difficult to obtain.

Love is not something that is expressed by just words. Actions scream of love that exists or not.

Love connects your body, heart, mind and soul to another as in a continuous circle.

It drives a hunger that makes you want to devour every second of the other person's life and yet you would give up your own for them.

For love waiting is agony. It becomes your master and you its helpless slave.

For you cannot see the life ahead of you without the presence of the other. To lose them would feel like your heart dying a little.

Tyrannical as love is, it will make you forget dignity and pride.

You will forgive lies and betrayal and insults clear as the August sun. For just one kiss. Just to look at them sleeping one more morning.

Love is the laughter that echoes your own at three in the morning after far too much drinking, and that you keep hearing after your mind clears up like a bell with promises of freedom.

Love is the games played to fulfill your darkest desires and yet in this context they become as pure as fairytales.

Love does not judge, and senseless madness and silliness are delightful coming from that person.

Eccentricities and capriciousness are adored just as much as wisdom and good sense.

The shape of the loved one becomes a heavenly landscape, a priceless work of art. All its imperfections are sprinklings of jewels, its beauty unparalleled. Freckles and beauty marks and scars becoming starry skies and charted territories.

The one you love speaks directly to your essence and not just to your person. It surpasses your expectations and those expectations you did not know you had.

This person becomes the standard by which you judge all others. And strangely enough sometimes you do not realize that what you're looking for is right under your nose.

The emotions that person produces are exponentially amplified. Angrier, madder, happier, sadder, baffled and confused. Love is like emotional ecstasy.

Love can give you for at least a few brief moments what the saints used to call rapture. A moment of pure joy in which light and God and sun and air and their ever-so-sweet kiss is just one.

And that is why I am Love's bitch.

Continued—»