Love is in the Air

by OWAIN GLYN EVANS

Rachel,

Love is in the air and I’m choking on the fumes.

If there’s a thin line between love and hate then I must have broken that line. You told me today: Love is blind, and that It doesn’t matter about the differences we share. But, for me, division is implicit in sharing.

It’s your clichés that kill love for me, the way they contradict each other. You say: make love not war, yet all’s fair in love and war, and doesn’t love conquer all? Maybe love died in the battle today.

Those faded butterflies in my stomach may as well have been wasps in my lungs. That probably would have hurt less. I’ll always remember those words you said, in my way:

You say that, Roses are red, and Violets are blue, But if love is blind, How can I trust you?
I’m leaving you.

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