Love is an energy, like every other one. It is flowing through us every single second of our life. We may not notice it most times, but still it is there inside of any human. And there's no way we can change it. That is usual to us, if talking about kinds of energy, most of them we don't really understand. Sometimes it may seem like people master the energy, but then we get a catastrophe, and realize there is no absolute, no ideal. And energies have their own ways. If they are somehow close to ours, we may get some use of it. Some more things about love. Like every other energy it can be wasted or saved, when it is in you. What you need to burst it out is someone. That is quite clear, because all of us have more or less similar understanding of what that energy is, if we call it a feeling. But it is ending, and if reserves are not refilled when energy flows away, it'll all but evaporate. Evidently, if there are two sources of love, they can renew their reserves of energy by getting love from each other. Why then love so often ends and people say they "were just mistaken and it wasn't love, she's (he's) just pretty and it's so much fun to be around her (him), but nothing more. After all it became boring and we found out that we are not built to be together". But it was love. {Or they lain to each other and to themselves} So where has it gone? Let's suggest there is one big (great, UNIVERSAL) source of love, that contains all the love that Creator of being could have sent to this world. This source, we may suppose is constantly emptying and refilling again so that it is never absolutely empty {I wrote there's no such things like an absolute or an ideal} and there's never more energy than it can contain. The reason why is our need in love. We just suck {sorry if this word somehow hurt, or may be seems rude to you} the energy of love from that source, with no chance to keep it inside for a long time, so after all it leaves our bodies and return there. Returning our attention back to two in love. They feed each other with that energy, so that if their feelings are sincere, love never ends in them. That looks like an ideal. So do they exist? Years may prove...
"If I`m not with you - I'll be alone till I die. But if I do - I'll be with you only. Anyway I love you. Forever".
"Don't say so. You just do not understand what forever means. It's longer than anyone can stand".
"It is nothing if compared to love. When I feel love I know that time can wait".
"But it can't. So you lie for yourself. It's stupid. You need time to look on it carefully".
"Why? I feel it strong. There's no doubt".
"You must understand that time is stronger than your thoughts. And war kills. It doesn't feel. It eats people. And love can do nothing with war".
"Who think so - can not win the war. Isn't it love to country that makes us fight?"
"No, it's just will to exist. To stay alive".
"Why, I love you, and it can make me fight angrier than they can imagine!"
"What can you alone do with all the things? All that soldiers, bullets, bombs. You should make your time. Just to be when it's all over and life is calm again. Me too. I don't think now it is time to forget about the world and fall in love".
"Make your time! What do you say? Love doesn't hesitate. And it only helps us to withstand it all"...
Remembering that day, many times later he cried to himself. Many years later he remembered about that girl. War made the world crazy. Crazy and angry. All that mess. Lots of lives spent. Wasted. Finished before it's time to. He couldn't find her. Though he tried. He never proved love COULD win the war, but he knew what love did with him. Lots of tries he had. With no result. When it's all in chaos - you are not the master of even your own life, so he decided later. And as that thing flashed in his mind, the decision was: time to give it up is NOW...
"Years. They fly, though have no wings to help them. They just live inside of the parralel universe, makin their own moves. Still knowing nothing about our existance. So, years speed and speed up and up." he thought to himself " Looking back at your life gets sadder every next month, if compared to the previous. And everything fades. But nothing is gone absolutely." He knew it. And she was in his heart for all the time. He remembered of her from time to time, less and less clear till his memories became only a shadow of what there reallyused to be. Then she no longer posessed him (in the meaning, that everyone fallen in love is taken by that one whom he felt with). Maybe not even taken, but close to it, than saying so is not wrong, but stayed near as a part of his own soul. That he considered to be the real love. Sometimes. On the other days clear was, that REAL are those things you can "touch". And love can't be the feeling for one. But he have never forgotten of her. He always remembered of her existance. That was over...
His family made him happy and proud. There were problems to solve, moments of sadeness. Afterwar sadness. Understandment of "what we've done" came to all the people. The family-living made it all easier. Still, nothing was past completely. The memories, at first, were closer than one could wish. You know, such things never pass without leaving deep wounds, that can be at first considered by someone as deadly hard. But than world heals itself.So try people. And, after all, they suceed in it.
Sorry to say, soon years start to pass faster than a person may wish. Every year he felt older more than it seemed possible to him. Life was taking him away from places and times he enjoyed, in spite of being in danger there. And it lead him in the future he hoped to enjoy.
Their children at school, growing, becoming teenagers, falling in love for the first time "really", and surely "forever" as children are sincere and not so aware of death.
Death. His wife died of cancer. That stroke him, and he felt like ready to fall. His children at the funeral, and his little grandson. Everything looked for him, like it was time to move. To leave this world, whatever awaits him there, after death.
A month or two after he was walking over the cemetery, remembering his life: what he missed, and what he's got. All he could remember. And he remembered one day. One talk. One girl and one boy inside one big world. Burning in one great war. World War. Killing, breaking, making people fear. Every day. But they were not talking of death. (May be because it would make theam fear more, but most likely because, they were not really thinking of it). He was too much in love. And she was not ready to accept it, because of all the things around them. She thought they had to "make their time". And he tried to convince her that love doesn't hesitate, though it really did. It could wait, but it was making him burn so he only wanted the war to end for them being together. And rest of that talk they tried to talk sincerely about their feelings, but couldn't agree with each other, and may be even with their own selves. And than that day's evening came, so it was time for them to part, though they didn't know about what was going to happen.
He never met her after, though he tried, he really tried, often thinking of previous tries. Failed, forgotten, after all failures. And than new tries came and went lost. Then one day he found himself desperate. And alone. With all the life around him. Running. Existing. The existance was the difference between HER and THE REST WORLD. He thought only of her. Because loosing her, when the war was over, seemed just too cruel to be the truth. Still it was. Instead, the life was around him to live. And he tried his best to become himself and live happily till the end. With memories of her and love that happened to him.
She was just a girl from Nagasaki, and he was just a boy from there.And their city was hit by the bomb some days after he tried to talk of love to her. Accidentally, they escaped. Though both of them thought, that the other one was dead. That's how people become the toy's of the fate, and what the destiny can look like. Frankly speaking, that's too much to think over, so we must just pretend we accept it. Because, really, universe never really cared of what a group of people think. May be some time it will, but it never ever did. And it doesn't feel like things are going to change.
That's where the realizing came, that he thought too much. Overthought, if we can say so. Than he rised from the bench near her grave and gave the last look at her name engraved in marble. That proved she had got lots of love. Her daughter told him she died 5 years ago in an automobile accident. He noticed that girl looked very much like his memories of her mother. He did not tell the girl story of his love, just told her he was an old friend of her mother. For some more time an old man sat near the grove of his old love, over and over thinking things could be different if he just had enough luck to find her.
But it was just like it was. And, after all, again, he had nothing to complain of.
He had enough happiness, and enough sadeness, enough fear and enough calm in his life. What abouth the death, he thought that everything can end, yet nothing and nobody can be completely forgotten. With fifty years passed, there's still time for everything you can feel.
There are no mistakes. Love doesn't make them. They're for people.
But it's our problem. Andit changes nothing about love.