Recycled Love

So this is love.

But is it real? This rose-coloured love doesn't really happen, right? This is happily ever after fiction, not how people really act.

How could someone love so much? When nothing is promised them in return?

Is it a secret or a deception? Do they believe in this love they convey? Surely not. But their words disprove me, their eyes implore me. This love IS real. 

From where do they receive this love? How can a love be passed on? From something invisible to my eye. This recycled love would be too pure, too whole, too much.

Oh no, this love cannot come from this earth. All this earth produces is pain and people who cause it.

So by what entity is this love derived from? It is more than outward feelings, this clenches the depth of my being. All of me is consumed.

Could this feeling last? Dare I trust it? Dare I not? 

My heart beckons me forward, my feet step just an inch. My hand involuntarily stretches before me. 

I will trust. 

I will trust again. 

For this, I will.

And I feel it, I can feel! This moment onward I feel what is not pain. It is not void, nor is it shallow.

I am swept away in awe.

I am never turning back.

AMAZING LOVE, how can it be?