Not the kind in the movies, the kind that is fanciful and fantastic.

Not the lustful type that is only taken at face value, nor the kind that brings peace.

It is the kind that is so confusing that it makes perfect sense. It wraps around the mind, drowning it in an endless sea trapped in an endless storm,

A depravity that is a reverie.

The kind that involves a repulsion so strong that it brings you closer to them, a loathe so engrained in the mind that it strengthens the fragility of the heart. It brings sadness, joy, hate, craving, but repels all envy and grief. It brings out the best and the worst in us. It comes and goes with the seasons, yet it never truly leaves. It remains in the confines of the soul, trapping one in an abyss of euphoria and despair.

It is madness.

It is wonder.

Unforgettable.

Whatever you thought you were before, was apparently a lie, brought out by the very feelings you attempted to lock away with a rusty key.

It is love.

The true kind. The confusing kind.

The deep kind. The revealing kind.