Apparently, I, for the life of me, am not able to comprehend the train of sense this emotional force seems to go about with. Of course, that in itself is an irony.
Sense. What sense is there?
I of all people should know.
And yet I found myself here with Silence.
We stood in the middle of the wood. Tree brush encircling every bit of time and space.
"Scream."
"What is the point of this exercise?" I said not giving Silence's exercise a fighting chance.
"You're frustrated?"
"Of course."
"Your every fiber is filled with trembling emotion you can't even begin to describe?"
"..Yes."
"You want to understand why?"
"Of course I do."
"Scream. Here, no one can hear you. No one can see you. What you feel, what you think, what you breathe. Just you."
So I listened. I screamed. With all my might.
Because even that part I couldn't understand.
Silence looked at me.
"Why."
I don't understand. And maybe I will never understand.
Moreover, I refuse to understand:
Why.
Why not Love.