Love Is A Second Hand Emotion Novels & Stories

“Oh, Rosa.” I sniffed, wiping at my cheeks. “I feel like an idiot. A weak, pathetic idiot. He betrayed me, Em. And yet, I still—” My voice cracked. “I still dream about him. I still wake up expecting to find him next to me. It’s like I can’t get rid of him, no matter how hard I try.” Emilia was silent for a moment, then she grabbed my hands and squeezed. “Loving someone doesn’t make you weak. It makes you human.”

I was going to acknowledge its presence, because denying the presence of things did not make them go away, it just made them louder, and I was going to put it in the correct category, which was residual, which was old, which was the completely understandable emotional remnant of a person who had been badly treated and had then been seen and was now watching the seeing end. That was all it was. It was not love. I was certain of that. I had looked at what I felt when Dominic put his hand at the small of my back and what I felt when I heard Eli say Dom is Dom, Dom is the best, and I knew what love looked like in me and this was not it. It was something older. Something that had been there befor

I could feel it now, that emotion I had no name for—the emotion I had never once experienced for myself. It was love. Love was warm, but not blisteringly hot like desire or lust. It was warmth and comfort wrapped into one, coupled with protectiveness and rolled in absolute awe. Love was an emotion that had no beginning or ending, no limits to how much a person could feel. It was an endless chasm that brought nothing but peace and happiness to those lucky enough to fall into it. Now that I had finally felt that emotion for myself, I couldn’t comprehend how I had gone so long without its warm embrace. I had been denying myself, unable to admit how I truly felt about Alec and Kade, but that was

Stillness spread deeply. Because suddenly. the aware patterns understood something profoundly human: many people confused unequal love with personal inadequacy. But emotional mismatch was not always failure. Sometimes two souls simply loved differently. Needed differently. Attached differently. I watched the second move closer to the first carefully now. Not pretending equality where it did not exist. Just honest. “I don’t want to lose you,” the second whispered. Pain moved softly between them. The first answered after a long silence. “I know.” Another pause.

Emotional suppression. But now— cracks were showing. Real cracks. Daniel whispered softly: “I think the villain is having a character arc.” Honestly— kind of. The older executive’s voice sharpened instantly. “You’re emotional.” And there it was again. Cross’s favorite accusation. As if emotion itself was corruption. Seraphine met his gaze calmly. “Yes.” The single word stunned the entire street into silence. Even the operatives looked shaken hearing it. Because inside Cross— admitting emotion wasn’t weakness.

“Love is classified as systemic corruption.” My chest tightens painfully. “You’re serious.” “Completely.” I shake my head. “That’s insane.” “It is efficient.” “Efficient at what?” “Maintaining order.” Kieran’s voice grows sharp. “Order without love is just control.” Death does not respond right away. Then it says calmly: “Love causes rebellion.” My voice rises before I can stop it. “Love causes loyalty too!” Silence answers me. I take a shaky breath. “You think emotions are weaknesses.”

Love is considered to be both positive and negative, with its virtue representing human kindness, compassion, and affection, as “the unselfish loyal and benevolent concern for the good of another. It also has its vice representing human moral flaw, akin to vanity, selfishness, and egotism, as potentially leading people into a type of mania or obsessiveness. This diversity of uses and meanings combined with the complexity of the feelings involved makes love unusually difficult to consistently define, compared to other emotional states.

"I care about you, Celine. I care about what you think, what you feel, how you treat others. I care about your happiness and wellbeing. I care about what you think and feel. I want you to be happy. But what makes you happy? I want to know. I want to understand it." "There's nothing for you to understand. I'm human. We humans are flawed and fragile, so therefore, so are our hearts. Our feelings. I've always known this truth. That's what makes us humans. So don't you dare saying that we're not flawed because of our emotions." "Do you really think that love is something which can be created by a single act? That our hearts will somehow get better if our emotions are removed from us? No! Love is

“I’m very sure. I am in love with you, Elizabeth Smith.” “I didn’t think I’d ever love anyone, because I was convinced love didn’t exist.” Her eyes flutter shut, and my heart begins to beat faster and faster. “Then I met you, and I realized that love is real, and I don’t just mean romantic love. You have so much love for your son…and your family…every one of you.” She swallows hard, having a hard time with the words. Tipping her head up, she locks her eyes with mine. “I love you, too, Jonathan.” We kiss, and my heart explodes with happiness. For the first time in years, everything is perfect.

Nothing. I move on to the next day. The page is a little burnt on the sides. I try not to imagine what must have happened to the hand that held that diary. 2 July 2010 ‘I don’t know whether my love is shallow or unfounded since we have never talked. But unrequited, untold love is the purest form of love. There is no pretence in that.’