There Are No Foreign Lands

Each love is different. Everytime we love we take a part of ourselves and put in a box, we place our hearton our sleeve, and seal it all with a box. That’s why heartbreak is so painful. Why itsmakes it hard to breath. That pain is that part of ourselves suffocating and struggling for air. With first love the part we give of ourselves is so raw. We don’t know the harm of giving our all. We lack discretion, and its beautiful. You talk about forever, marriage, children, and things you can’t possibly know about. You give your future. Then the world comes and you make mistakes. You cry. If you’re lucky you have a mother to hold you like mine did. Either way you keep breathing, and try to save as much of the oxgen deprived part of your soul before its braindead.

(via onehelloworld)