Love?

I'm sure most of you, most meaning three, are tired of my blabbering of angels and love. I apologize; I do not wish to bore you with tales of my significant other. It's just you know when you're a young child and someone would tell you they love you? You would be so happy that somebody cared about you; you didn't care about anything else, you knew that when that person said I love you they meant it. Well, my parents don't say it much anymore, and when they do I have trouble believing them. I feel like their love isn't the real love. They love me because they must; my life promises wealth, support, and "happiness". I think love should be more than just what the person can give you. When they're drunk and/or high they don't seem to love me. They hate me: they want to fight me, they want me to cry, they want me to leave. What happened to love? I haven't experienced real love in a while. It feels good. I can't help but be overjoyed that someone really does love me. I'm sorry, I guess this post ended up like the others, "My parents don't care, but she does". This must be dreadfully boring. You have ny sympathies.