Tu la love

Love is like bad alcohol - sweet at first, then painful, and shameful in the morning. Everything around you says ‘forget it,’ but your heart stubbornly reaches for what has long been out of reach. He is the guy who believed too much in ‘maybe she's just tired,’ and she is the one who was tired even before it began. Dancing, champagne, lies wrapped in glitter - and all honesty only in the hangover. The world suggests that it's time to sober up, but the addiction to illusions is stronger. Because love, when it's like a drug, cannot be cured by logic - only by time and someone else's ‘I told you so.’