What they never tell you

Love is a lot of things, some of which are good. Nobody ever speaks about the bad stuff because love is supposed to be a hope - unattainable and perfect.
Love isn't perfect. There are no butterflies. No rainbows and it definitely isn't sunny everyday. There's pain and sadness and hurt.
Love isn't unattainable. The overwhelming grief that i feel in my heart is real. As real as the heat that is cooking my skin.
Love is dangerous. It takes away your thinking. The rational part of you.
Love is a deceiver. It makes you feel free when you are actually its slave. To be tossed and used as it dims fit.
Love is reckless. It takes away your choice. We can't decide who we love, how much we love them or if we should stop loving them. We just love. Blindly. Desperately.
Love is a tyrant. It lords over your life and convinces you that you should be grateful.
Love doesn't end when the relationship ends. It lingers with you for life. A shadow that you never wanted.
Love is everything that I never wanted, yet here I am sick with love.