No fear in love

I am told over and over and over and over again that there is no fear in love; love casts out fear; love crumples fear into a ball and throws it away.

I once told someone–someone who wanted everything to be defined–that love is a commitment to someone else’s psychological, emotional, and physical well-being.

Interesting note: a few weeks later the last of my Self that was left was destroyed by the Machine that claims to have a monopoly on love, the Machine that claims love originated with them,

No, it did not originate with them,
It originated with twelve social outcasts
collecting the dust of the known world
on their feet just so they could bring
to a dying world

No, it did not originate with them,
It originated when he allowed us to
gut him
to satisfy our bloodlust.

Love originated with a poor man.
Love originated with a man from the East, not the West.
Love originated with a man who gave only two commandments, not 613.

I wonder if they know they almost pushed me to the end of everything again.

Do I digress? Very well, then, I digress. I am large, and contain volumes.

Love means giving someone the weapons to destroy your heart and trusting the other person will not do so.

Love is risk, but love is trust.

I’ve never understood late nights smothered in fear, deciding whether to take a risk or not. I’ve never understood anxiety before honest questions, or honest love-proclamations, or honest anythings.

I’ve experienced it, but I’ve never understood it.

This is how the world should work:
1) We are honest.
2) Others are honest in return.
3) We love each other in the boundaries that have been set as a result of our honesty.

There are different types of closets, and all of them are Lucifer’s instruments.


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