Pain.
Love comes in many forms, and sometimes it even grabs you as quick as a thief.
Then it takes everything away.
How many times do we need to be hurt?
I fall in free air, let the parachute go, and let the wind caress me as I head to something safe. I can see a good landing; it's okay to fall.
A little feeling of insecurity.
But the fall is so graceful... So graceful that I dare to close my eyes because I know that something's going to catch me.
The parachute.
The land.
They've been.
The earth is filled with connections, chains, links; we are bound in a loop that we end up bumping onto one other and even sometimes, so hard that it hurts.
The parachute.
The land.
Not secure.
Just when I though that there will be comfort, safety, security, and faith, I crash on hard ground.
People around me may laugh; I'm the fool again.
I misplaced myself. I have jumped off the plane and just let myself in danger.
The parachute.
The land.
No. Should not.
There can be other ways to fall. I dust myself off, take the flight, await for another jump. Maybe some place else. Maybe nowhere at all. Maybe...
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