WHAT WAS LOVE? she mused.
She knew it was probably something good; it should make someone feel good, not small and worthless and trapped. So, yes, perhaps in some ways love should be freedom.
But that, she decided, pursing her lips, feels like it’s missing something. Some other piece.
Leaning back, she contemplated the soft, fluffy line of clouds across the azure sky. It’s blue nearly matched the sea, a glistening mirror aswirl with emerald eddies.
Perhaps love was a choice and chance together.
Like the way the tides and winds could be unpredictable, but you could still learn to understand. You could choose…and maybe that made all the difference?
Written: 1 Dec 2015
A/N: not sure what I think of the sentiment. I don’t disagree, but whatever idea was brewing when I started this, I felt, got lost by the end.