Something like a Bitch

After having been through so many emotions in so little time, I've reached this one blurry conclusion: Love is, something like a bitch.
Shakespeare said it best, "The course of true love never did run smoothly", this is how it did run.
There were two hopeless romantics in search of legal ecstasy,
Who as fate would have it, meet each other by some form of serendipity.
They are immediately attracted and the first few dates are bliss, the first kiss? Intoxicating.
The next, unavoidable, and the next, historical.
The first night of intimacy, is when they reached the first level of their ecstasy.
Their night was the perfect midnight song that lulls you to sleep,
The perfect martini, not too dry or too sweet.
The perfect chemistry, Him+Her="We"
Suddenly, there's a slight change in their course,
"I Love you" slips out, but was it by force?
Now there's a certain awkwardness that they share,
In levels that they certainly would rather not bare.
One discussion leads to his response. "I Love you too, baby, I love you."
Now she's thinking: "Is it comfort for my stupidity? Or words of what is really felt in he?"
She can't ask him, lack of self assurance would reflect pretty poorly,
So she accepts his declaration, and dreams about it sorely.
Natural disasters occur, but in dreams anything takes action.
But her one dream led to many a dreadful faction.
An explosion, not nature,
Very forced, almost torture.
It's a terror, something unpredicted,
But the suspect, unconvicted.
Was it she that ruined he? Or was he ruined at all?
For after the explosion she woke up to a fall.
Now she's fearful it's a sign,
That their expressions are not fine,
"Sooner or later, he'll no longer be mine."
What forces these thoughts... is she that much intertwined?
That her heart is afraid to accept a perfect find?
Questions clouding her judgment so she decides to speak.
And all the thoughts she's been thinking, to him she will leak.
But he's worried, "how can she love me, she barely trusts me!"
And that was the end. Love's binds will not bend,
And she's stuck all alone, her ecstasy at an end.
While he thinks in his head, "I really did love her, but what message did I send?"
Torn apart she decides, "I refuse to ever let this happen again."
The two hopeless romantics lost their way and denied the existence of their ecstasy, and when asked if they'll love again, they both reply "Love doesn't love me."

Moral of the story: Love is Something like a bitch.
Shouts to jess john for the song hook-up.