It is like a flame you so carefully guard with your hands cupped around it; so meticulous about not letting the crimson blaze burn out even if it means enduring the pain of the heat. But isn’t that a lot like love? You try hard to keep the love going even if it means being vulnerable of getting burnt. It’s not easy but when did anything ever come easy? It’s only easy when you’ve grown accustomed to the pain, the hurt and the game. You swore never to give in but you do and you fall back into the cyclic pattern of picking yourself up only to fall back down again. The only movement you make is drifting along to the flow just like rocks in rivers and streams, never really capable of doing anything. On the bed of the river these little pebbles lie, just as you do on the bed in your empty room, as you find yourself berating and questioning yourself about all the decision you let others make for you. 

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(via ttow)