Misunderstood and mistaken.
You’ve probably been told that love is when you have somebody to take care of you when you’re old and frail. You’ve probably also been told that love is mostly sweet but it can be dangerous too at times. Hence you can’t completely submit yourself to anyone because no one will love you as you love yourself. That you’ve got to take precautions. But don’t these sound more like a political means to survival rather than love?
You’ve probably been told as well that unless it’s certified on paper and your finger’s got ring on it, your love isn’t real. Who cares if that ring comes from someone your parents forced you to pretend loving? Or from someone you settle with simply because the social constructs decided that your love is somehow unnatural and diabolical even if there are no apparent reasons for it to be so?
Before you know it, you might start succumbing to the whispers; start believing that you’re unloved because you don’t deserve love or that you missed your chance; that somewhere, sometime, somehow, you met your love but walked right past it. You were probably too doubtful, too shy, too proud, or just too dumb to have a clue of it. And as much as you wish time wasn’t linear so that you can go back and revisit the past, you just can’t. Regrets aren’t fun. So take your shots. So what? So what if it cost you some dozens heartbreaks and disappointments? You always recover.
Because believe me for I have traveled in time and discovered that no matter how much you despise your past and wish for Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind to be more than just a masterful science fiction work, having someone you love who loves you back in all the right ways can’t quite compare with all the wrongs that could’ve possibly gone down or the burned bridges or steep slippery steps.
Because I know from experience. I’m living what I’m describing. And if my chest explodes one day from its inability to contain the feelings I harbor, know that the explosion is worth all the screw-ups and do-overs.
And I’d do it again in my next lives. And again. And again. And again.
Hey, my love. Happy Valentine’s Day. Our first of a lifetime together.
I have a demure side. I brood a lot. But not when I’m with someone whose rhythm makes my whimsical recklessness appears to be a series of deliberate affectionate gestures.
And you’re a pastiche. A beautiful work of art too breathtaking for me to tamper with. A lagniappe—the most special kind; one that doesn’t patronize.
And we could’ve gone wrong at so many turns. Had that conversation never taken place, we could’ve ended up an erstwhile fling. Had those promises never come to live, we could’ve ended up an ephemeral story that is sweet only in imagination but not in reality. And had we chosen to give in to our forbearance, we could’ve ended up as another set of evanescent broken promises.
But no. None of this is the reality. The reality is we sort out our imbroglio because what we have is too precious to be momentary—a conclusion obviously too mediocre for our figures. Calling you my serendipity would be inaccurate, because I didn’t just stumble upon you while looking for something else. I was looking for you. I just wasn’t aware of it until that night dawned on us.
It really is an epiphany—one without a conclusion. Because it would be a shame if all beautiful things had to come to an end. Or probably we should be bad instead.
Whichever lasts forever, I’d choose that.
Ain’t it just funny—how perfectly unaware I was of your existence and—abracadabra—overnight, you became the one thing that makes sense of everything.
I used to think that we were nothing more than an accidental occurrence; not knowing that we are the calculated consequence of a series of elaborate decisions instead; that as much as I’d prefer to call us a natural design, we’re just not. If alternate universes are valid, then in one of those, we’re still and probably will always be oblivious of one another.
Damn. I don’t think I fancy the idea of these alternate universes so much anymore. Not if we don’t happen.
You know; these days my stars are blinding. It only became apparent to me recently as well that—despite my reservations over human nature—we and everything in between now and then and later are parts of a larger conscience; one that ceases taking place if we are no longer an us.
And I’m in debt to all the fictional gods and powerless divine inventions for just exactly that; for defying the improbable odds of an us. My aching soul is healed and I’ve stopped setting fire to my insides.
Modern dating is exhausting. There are so many rules you somehow are supposed to just obey, no questions asked, even if you don’t really see why you should. Basically, it’s just a series of stereotypes and shallow conventions that the general population seem to have established based on repetitive movie cliché and some pretentious minds.
- Let them read your mind. Don’t be the first to express your feelings, even if you feel strongly about a person. Why would you? If they like you back, they would come around anyway. Because, obviously, that’s how things work. People read minds. You don’t have to say “Hey, I like you. Would you like to go out on a date with me?” Instead just let them read your mind and wait. Wait until they ask you first. Yeah. That always works.
- I Will Love You Forever (Image Source)
- Always wait a few minutes before responding to their text messages. Even if your multitasking skill is off the chart and therefore it simply isn’t as hard as everybody seems to think it is for you to be working a full time job, multiple side projects, while still being 24/7 available for your partner, hold yourself back. Don’t let them see through your abundant love and affection for them. Of course you can live without them. Nobody says we should be one of those folks who choose to be miserable because of someone they can’t have. It’s just that if you have someone in your life that makes you appreciate life multiple times better, why not let them know that? Wouldn’t you want to know how much your lover appreciates you? No?
- Never trust any words that come out of their mouth. When they tell you that they cannot talk at the moment because they’re in a meeting, don’t trust them. They must be cheating with someone else. When they ask you to rain check on a date, go crazy on them. They must have a date planned with someone else. Because that’s what you do when you love someone. You have to be suspicious all the time. After all, you’re only with them in the first place so that their world revolves around you, right? But not your world. You deserve privacy, tranquility, and your personal space.
- Don’t change a thing about yourself for them. Yeah, because you should always put yourself first. Even if something about you really makes your partner uncomfortable and you actually agree with them, you should stay just the way you are. Because you are perfect. There’s nothing wrong with your messy room. Also not with your irregular diet. Of course not with your stinky leftover pizza that has been in your fridge for almost a month now. That’s healthy. If they can’t deal with your bad attributes, they don’t deserve you. Is that how it is now, huh? Who needs a lover who is always genuinely concerned about your well-being? Nobody, I guess.
Well, I’m tired. I have someone now and I love this someone in a way I never thought I was capable of before. Now tell me: what is the big deal of being so sure about love after a month? Who died and made you Einstein so that you get to decide someone should only say “I love you” to their partner after a few months or a few years? If I love someone and I want to tell them I love them after a week of dating, it’s my business. So what if I’m naïve? So what if I’m gullible? You don’t have to pity me. I am not in need of anyone’s pity. I am perfectly capable of taking care and looking out for myself.
This is what I mean when I said modern dating is exhausting. Exhausting because you are constantly berated by these comments and ignorant ideas of how you’re supposed to date and love. Let us young lovers be. And me―I think I’ve had my fair share of love frenzies and heartbreaks. I know sometimes we get ahead of ourselves and dream of all these wonderful things inside our heads about what we will do with our lovers when, in fact, more often than not, feelings change and flowers stopped blooming as the autumn replaces the spring.
But just because these things happen in our heads, why does it have to mean that they were not real? The happiness is real. I can at least testify to that.
And be honest with yourselves: if you get into a relationship worrying about how you’ll recover when it all ends, you most likely aren’t with someone you genuinely love. So leave. Like I did. And when you’re certain you’ve found the person that makes you feel in ways nobody else has ever made you feel, stay and give your all for them. Like I am doing.
So screw all of these conventions.
I love you and I want to make you happy for the rest of your life. I refuse to believe that I somehow have to be ashamed of loving someone as much as I love you.