When you write about love, you just want to plunge into romance with your head, and if you write about suffering, then it is sublime and poetic.
So wrote, for example, Eduard Asadov:
It was useless to bicker
And she went into her voluntary captivity,
To serve again, to humiliate again
And do not demand anything in return.
Midnight struck. There is silence in the house ...
She is sitting and relentlessly waiting.
She is not up to books now and not up to sleep:
Suddenly call? What if it still comes?
Love brings joy to the threshold.
With her it is easier to believe, and dream, and live.
But God forbid, as they say
That's so loving!
The great Maugham also has a book on this subject, “Patterned Veil,” and everything is the same there: when love and heart are at odds. How can you love a person who betrayed you, abandoned, humiliated, does not love (emphasize his)?
And if we switch from sublime poetry to the language of harsh reality, then we can say this: "there is such a love that it is better to immediately replace the execution." This is just about the very feeling that destroys, deprives human dignity. It’s like a drug when it unbearably attracted to a person, and you already know that he will hurt you again, and you will writhe again in agony.
Just do not think that such love is the lot of adolescents, when God himself ordered to dramatize each meeting, because such an age. No! Sick love does not depend on age, nor on social status, nor on social status. Those who have had something like this at least once in their lives will understand me: you look up, stumble upon his gaze and understand, that's all. Gone And then several years of hell called "how to tear from the heart of a person who has completely taken possession of your mind, soul and body?" How to live without without whom it is difficult to breathe? ”
You should not scold yourself, because such love is like a serious illness that is very difficult to treat and will take a very long time before the limit of your pain is finally exceeded, and you will understand: you can’t live on like that.
There are no former drug addicts: all those who once “were on the other side of good and evil” are now only in remission. So it is here. A full recovery is probably impossible, so you should not provoke yourself by random meetings and telephone conversations of “old friends”.
They say that after death there is some other life, but it’s definitely impossible to find out, because having died it is impossible to go back and share your observations “there” with those who still live. So here, having experienced such love, going through torment and despair, learning to survive without it and even sometimes notice the sun and the blue sky, is it possible to love again?
To be honest, I do not believe in it, it seems to me such love as a serious illness, after which you can survive, but it will be impossible to fully recover. Therefore, everyone chooses his own future fate: he agrees to simple and warm feelings or goes through life alone, because now it cannot be otherwise. When there is no love, but human dignity and pride remain, it means that not everything ended so badly, because losing love is not the worst thing. The worst thing is to lose yourself.
And on the other hand, if you know stories of happy love after heart death, can you share them with us?