What is this feeling?

This hunger for his blood inside my mind?

That etches a path through my veins.

Blocking out everything in sight except him.

The one who just pulled a joke on me.

What is this feeling?

But then something weird happens.

My heart is thumping inside my chest.

My blood is slowly turning to ice.

As that one person turns to smile at me.

What is this feeling?

I am stuttering as I try to speak.

A cold sweat runs down my back.

Is it just me, or is the air thick or something?

And since when did he look so handsome?

What is this feeling?

He laughs lightly at my nervousness.

And tells me it is just fine.

We can all mature as we grow older.

And see each other in a different light.

What is this feeling?

He is walking away now.

The person who I thought I loathed.

Yet why does it feel like my heart is breaking in two.

As his figure becomes smaller in the room.

What is this feeling?

He sits by his best bud again.

As another round starts between the two.

My spirit is conflicted.

I thought I hated him, what do I do?

What is this feeling?

Now though, as I watch him enjoy himself.

As I watch the way he focuses on the screen.

A small smile works its way onto my face.

As I turn around to leave.

What is this feeling?

Sure, he might have been childish at times.

But he at least knew when to be mature.

And even though we had known each other for years.

Protected each other since the day we met.

I found this feeling rising  in me like a berth.

What is this feeling?

It is Love.

Hello.

If you are reading this, then that hopefully means you're still alive too.

Hopefully.

Today marks the first day of the end of the world as we knew it.

We had always thought it would end with a war, a famine, one person getting infected with some unusable disease that turned everyone he gave it too into zombies.

It was kind of the last one, but in a way, it wasn't.

My parents had always raised me, telling me that when a person died, they stayed dead.

I had always believed them, for how could the dead possibly come back to life?

My dead grandma proved it very wrong today, when she came stumbling in through our back door, and made a meal of my parents, who had been too shocked to fight back.

I was only lucky to have had my knife on hand when I walked into the kitchen at the commotion.

Otherwise, I would have been next on her meal too.

I had stabbed her through her brain, causing this foul black stuff to fly everywhere, instantly identifying her as the zombie she was.

I thought that had been the end of it, then, and had taken some time to grieve over my dead parents.

But then my dead parents rose, and they had looked at me with those dead eyes of theirs, moans coming from their mouths.

I wish I could say that I ran away, or that I succumbed to my grief.

But no.

I killed them, both of them, without a hint of remorse, for they were zombies, they were now the enemy.

Now, as I sit behind my locked and curtained window, I see the shuffling figures of many of those we thought had died.

The sheriff shot in the chest last month.

The librarian who died in the car crash.

Even old Uncle Ben, who had passed away from cancer I saw.

There are a couple more familiar faces of my neighbors with them.

Shuffling endlessly in their search for living flesh.

I see a few others like me, sitting at their windows, though they look down at the he crowd in fear.

I look down at it it with a blank face.

This was only the beginning.

They weren't going to go away.

So that left me with one option, as the two steak knives on my belt show.

I'm going to fight back against these bastards.

I don't care how long it will take, or if I end up dying for it.

But one way, or another, I will avenge my parents.

I will avenge my lost neighbors.

And I will avenge all those whose bodies are being used by a virus without their permission.

But for now, I think it would be a good time to rest.

Killing the dead is far more exhausting then we were led to believe.

Good night.

I hope to see you again tomorrow.

If there is one in this hell.

On one side are the conservatives.

Toothless, yet feral towards change.

On the other are the liberals.

Helpers, at the expense of the future of others.

The two as different as day and night.

Yet in some ways the same.

For both of them lie to the people.

Both of them frame the other for power and gain.

Yet why should that surprise us?

Don't we do the same as them too?

We all say to act like good people.

To be a good sport when we lose.

But in the end, I simply believe.

We are all broken, like the hypocrites on Wall Street.

Don't put your love in a heart, for a heart can be broken.

Put it in a circle instead, since a circle goes round and round forever.

Don't say I love you, without knowing the weight of the words behind it.

Instead, say I like you, for it is easier to like than to love.

People don't fall in or out of love.

They only fall for what they think they loved.

The out of part comes when they change to someone else.

Your love can be so special.

You just have to nourish it until it is that.

Love, in it's purest form.

Some are strong physically.

Lifting weights larger than a man.

Some are strong mentally.

Able to solve the most complex of problems.

As for me...

Does Pokémon gaming count as a strength?

People look at each other, and say it's love at first sight.

A hug, a kiss, or maybe more seals this deal inside their minds.

But to say we're in love is such a strong word.

Do we really love that other as much as we think?

Do we really think we'll spend our whole lives together till death do we part?

Maybe we learn that they have an alcohol problem one day.

Or maybe they're addicted to porn and try to cover it up.

What do we do then, when this situation arises?

What do we say to them we had said we loved?

Do we say that we fell out of love?

Do we say that we didn't love him/her as much as we thought?

The sad answer I give to you is, nay, we don't.

For if we had truly loved him/her, we would have loved them for what I call.

Our own dark side.

Do not foolishly throw that word around.

For that word means more than what you say.

To love someone, is to love every part of them.

Even those, that are hidden in their shadows.

The parts of them, that are their dark side.