Artillery of the Heart

The topic I am about to discuss is not the norm.

I am venturing out of my comfort zone and into the light  un-dark.

Brace yourselves.

**

Love.

In my opinion, it does not come under the heading of ‘a many splendored thing;’ that would be infatuation. You’ve got to admit, infatuation is a beautiful thing. The urgency, the not eating or sleeping, the goofy grin and all-consuming need to see, feel, touch, and smell the object of your desire. Fun stuff!

But love..

Love is what happens if both parties stick around after the infatuation wears off—aged infatuation. The love I want to talk about is the kind two people can shoot full of holes, douse in gasoline and toss a match to, and still hangs on.

It perpetually looms.

Love, if it’s the real deal, takes on a life of its own. Suddenly, it calls the shots. The relationship isn’t over until love says it’s over. The people involved are mere extras in the movie.

That’s the kind of love I’m talking about. It’s tough. It endures. It’s unstoppable and indestructible.

The Kevlar-Army-Tank kind of love, if there were such tanks.

But how?  Why? What holds it together? The love, I mean.

That’s what I can’t figure out.

It’s the kind of love that’s always there when you need it.

That’s all I wanted to say.

 

SusanWritesPrecise/TheAbjectMuse
Image courtesy of wallpaperup.com   M1A1 Abrams Tank

 

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