[artwork by TheColorfulCatStudio]
Edited by- Aruna Nidamarthy
"If I could tell my younger self one thing, it would be this: There are many things in life you can postpone, but love isn't one of them." -Lang Leav
There have been many great pieces about this idea. Many great tales told. Countless remarkable writers throughout generations who have devoted their lives to sharing the purest and most beautiful sides of this act, producing timeless classics. The butterflies, the pain and the rewards. All wrapped up into a brilliant work of art.
This is not one of them.
This is my take. It is my turn to talk about love. The selfish, impossible idea of love.
Now before you write this off as another angry piece by another heartbroken sceptic, let me clarify a few things. I do not “hate” love. I am not against it. Do not think I don’t believe in it. But at the same time, do not think I do.
Confused? Me too. That’s how I would actually describe my relationship with this emotion. Confusing.
To give you some background, I am not very comfortable with feelings. I can’t identify them, I have a hard time actually feeling them and it’s very easy for me to ignore them. I have been like this for as long as I can remember. My brain has always had an upper hand over my heart. I hid behind facts and logic. I still do.
So, it is quite possible that there may have been instances where I was, what is termed as, “in love.” I just didn’t realise. Although I doubt the possibility of this as well.
The best way to describe the working of my brain is this. In a secure and unguarded world, I would have the ability to build emotional bonds easily. I trust easily. I get attached easily. I love easily. It’s hilarious to even think about. However, this isn’t a secure and unguarded world. In reality, the person I am is the opposite. Distant, subtle and seemingly not interested. But to be quite honest, most of the time I am not interested. So I guess that part is true. But, I know that I am capable of a blind involvement of a higher degree with an external entity. And naturally, I try my hardest to stop that from happening. Also, I think the fact that my exact definition of love is “a blind involvement of a higher degree with an external entity” tells you more than you need to know.
I also have this dramatic thought process on repeat: Love is trust. And trust is surrender. Surrender is the loss of control and how can I lose control?
I may be wrong. I know that to a certain extent, I am. But that doesn’t change the fact that I am terrified by this infatuation that is socially demanded. In the spectrum of behaviours people can have with each other, there is only a certain section termed as love. Anything before love is “sad and creepy.” Anything after is a criminal offense. So what I’m trying to say is, love is nothing but a socially acceptable act of madness. But since society says it’s okay, it’s not madness.
I am aware that at this point that you may have drawn many conclusions about me in your head but I want to say this.
Don’t feel bad for me. I’m really good at going against myself. I love doing things that I am generally horrified by. Skydiving, meditation, swimming with sharks and falling in love. They all come under the same list. No sarcasm this time.
The reason I started this piece off with a quote is because that was the inspiration for this. Those lines took a toll on me. It got me thinking. It got me scared. Because I’m doing the exact opposite. Yes, this is an article on love. But to me, this is more of a justification. My reasoning to myself for why am I who I am. This is me telling myself that it’s okay. Am I convinced? I’ll have to get back to you on that.