The Empty Spaces, Personal History and Love

I do not know what I am writing about but I am because this is the way I discover, and re-doscover myself. I am growing because of what I am reading, also reading my own work. I write things I have to clue about, and when I do, my mind gets flooded by thoughts I have never even thought till this point, and that often do not seem like are my own. Then I re-read what I have written, and I stare the page for moments because I don't believe that its my creation-read what I have written, and I stare the page for moments because I cannot believe that its my creation.

We all must have read about empty spaces, because that's what life is made of, because in the absence of empty spaces our life would be vulnerable, our mind would be unable to cope and our body would give up out of stress. We know empty space complete us, but we have to fill it too. It is necessary, because otherwise we will be depressed, will feel useless, and waste. We all must be
knowing the concept of forgetting our personal history, of being free of our past and being born every day. Because at a time, the burden of carrying the personal history will be too much to bare and we will feel broke. We are so much caught up in the past that we often fear it will be repeated again in the future, and fail to
live in the present. 

We all must have read about love, because that's what life is about as well (I am not talking about Mills & Boons, or cheesy Indian movies with happy endings). But all of us treat love as a source of suffering, as a source of maddness, of pain. Well, that's not love, that's insecurity, possessiveness, that's obssession. In Paulo coelho's, The Zahir, I came across a phrase that said, "Love is an untamed force. When we try to control it, it destroys us. When we try to control it, it imprisons us. When we try to understand it, it leaves us feeling lost and confused." (I am so much inspired by him) So why is it then, sometimes we fill empty spaces too much and sometimes not even at all? Why is it that the darkest bits of our personal history are carried forward? Why is it that we are afraid to do a thing because it didn't have an expected result in past?
Why is it when love should be a nice, pleasant feeling, it makes us cold and uneasy? Why is it thay when we should be loving without conditions and shouldn't expect our love to be reciprocated, we give into obssession and try to possess the other person?

We all say we are happy, but are we? I try to tell this is the way of life (not force anything on anyone), and at times I feel frustrated because of things I should not even consider on the first place. We say we are living, are we? I feel so pretencious myself, I feel I am living for others at times and it is the worst feeling. We say we are having all we need, are we? No. We say life is being generous and we are satisfied, are we? Well, I am not.

-a