love.

i once mistook love for something that corresponds to my fantasy. i assumed it had to have a future in order to be meaningful, an aftermath, or a goal, but it doesn't. as i travel back and forth and experience every love in the world, i've realized that love does not have to become anything at all. it hurts the first time to be let down by the expectations that should be met, to be bombarded with what ifs and maybes, but now i know how it truly works. love is not the absence of space, but rather its recognition. it only matters insofar as it exists. here. now. "love does not necessitate a future." love is not expecting anything in return.