Fairytale gone bad

I have a secret to share, the turtle said yesterday, and looked me straight in the eyes. I don't think I have ever been inlove. And again I hold my tongue and dind't reply anything to him, although I guess what I wanted to say is: My dear, just because a love story had an end which caused a lot of pain and grief, doesn't mean it wasn't a love story after all.

Why I didn't say that to him, I don't know, as he wasn't the only one at that table I wanted to say that to. When looking back, I guess I felt it would be useless to give rise to such discussions, as it was neither the time nor the place.

...That and my legendary fear of conflicts.

But still one question remains unanswered: Why deny what you feel or have felt, just because bad memories are linked to that? I remember my most bitter fairytale gone bad: I broke up, went home and cried for a week. I never was the same again. But was it love? Abso-fucking-lutely!

HERO OF THE DAY: The ant: "Pssst, let's not talk about love, we might scare it away!"