A Society Cannot Stand Without Its Missing Piece

by Vivian


He asked me what we overlooked.

I told him love. The passionate one. The one that makes your skin crawl. Love that takes you to the edge of the universe and beyond.

I was in love once. I might be again.

He asked me if I’ve ever been in love. I told him yes. The “till death do us part” type of love. The blissfully falling type of love. Love that gives the butterflies in your stomach a permanent home.

I was in love once. I will never be again.

He asked me what it felt like. I told him, everything. The crazy, and high thrill. The ecstatic and melancholy, doleful and crestfallen love. Love that you think you understand – you don’t – but you do.

I was in love once. I might be again.

He asked me if I love him. I told him it’s just imaginary. The affair during the marriage that seemed so wrong but so right. The love of a wife, but not of a husband.

I was in love once. I will never be again.


Subscribe to Peaks Journal to ensure you never miss a piece of prose. 

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s