There was Jane, the wife of Quinn, she was all I ever visualized a woman who represented those who passionately fell in love. Quinn was rarely there to be a father, a husband or even a friend. He was addicted to the idea of building his company. That he practically deleted the idea of family in his system. But Jane waited, she wrote and wrote him poems , poems that he didn't even deserved. She wrote there the emotions she knew he won't ever hear. Maybe read one day after her death. She wrote him letters as if there was not any drop of love has faded all throughout the years, instead it grew into something so selfless. She died but never wasted any time to document her feelings, to print out a picture of the pumps of love in her blood vessels. She spent every single time she could to let him know that he is loved, even after she passes away, she did this to a man she rarely sees, for a man who only gave her uncertainties to the love she only desires of.
And then there was Alex, who grew out of anger from her father's absence. She married an insurance to the promise that he won't be anything like her father. She married a man tied to her own decisions. Predictable but he stayed. Horst was a husband to Alex. A complete accomplishment to eradicate her fears of ending like her mother Jane. Their life was patterned to the standards of this world. It was to me, an empty space, without any adventure.
Among the two woman, I am Jane. Love for me is full of uncertainties. Love should not be a promise that it will be compensated equally. Love should be a test of patience, a wonder full of questions not needed to have answers. Love should be passionate, giving love to a person even if it means hurting over and over again. Love is holding on to untold dreams even if that dreams remain to be dreams forever. Love is different from the world of goals, of success and career, Love is just loving without asking why. No promotion, no profit and no wins. Just love.
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