Life between Love and Love lost

Sometimes it’s good to be a cold, mean capitalist. You manage to do great even at worst of times.
Capitalist in love? Well, why not? You are great when you’re in it; you are great even when you’re out of it. You seem to do what is best for you, really doesn’t matter if your actions are going against anyone, even the person who loves you. And when the person (you’re love) drops you, it really doesn’t matter. It sounds rude, yes, but it really does work, though I somehow could not ‘yet’ become that kind.

Life between Love and Love lost…

The stage when we still love the person who’d dropped us ages ago, is the most pathetic stage of our lives, no matter who we are, what we do, where we live, it hurts equally bad. And how terrible can it be when you know that the person has moved on.

The person, the love of our lives, the character of our poems, the most important part of us and if that person shrugs and elbows us out as if we never mattered, is still pardoned by us, just because our love can’t transform into hate.

What do we do? Our conscious does not allow us to stray and then you see the person has moved on as if nothing has happened. How do control that anger, that anguish, that fear? Isn’t it good to become a cold, mean capitalist here? We can take this painkilling pill and live in that exo-hormonal peace and calm.

If not, what else?