thelifeofsabi asked: You Said: "I told myself, let’s just say that love actually is a drug. That way, my current post-love life would be… rehab. And honestly, that’s pretty much what it is... I don’t believe in drugs, and I don’t believe in love. They don’t last. You come down from them, and you crash."
After three years does this thought still cross your mind? I lived like this for about four years and finally got tired of "leaving out of the suitcase." It seems as if love could be comparable to a job. We all know that when we no longer like what we do, we can quit. This mindset diminishes the pressure to excel at anything. I find that love is a necessary evil to get you on to the next heartbreak. Or so it seems...
Three years down the line, I can say my mindset has changed. I now have much more faith in drugs. The problem isn’t that they don’t last. You can always do more. There’s an endless supply. The problem is indulgence. You have to know where to draw the line. I think maybe that was my problem with love. There was no line. I jumped in headfirst and took as much as I could, not knowing the dangers involved. It almost killed me.
I’ll love again, some day. This time I’ll know what I’m getting into, I’ll know to be careful, I’ll know when to stop.
I’ll know when to quit the love job. We’ve all worked shit jobs and we’ve all quit, we’ve all been fired or laid off, we’ve all been desperately browsing craigslist for options. But I don’t think I’ll ever love anyone that feels like my boss nor my employee. I’d love someone that feels like lunch. Sometimes delicious, sometimes stale, sometimes you forget it and sometimes someone will steal it right out of the fridge and you’ll have to order one with your credit card. But it’s lunch. It’s something you need to live, something you always look forward to, something that will always be there tomorrow.
