Love, the romantic kind, it’s something I’m yet to experience.
I am a romantic. I love reading books about beginnings; falling head first, moments that feel like magic, entering into the unknown, following your heart even if there’s a chance you’ll come out of it in in pieces. It fascinates me, compels me, makes me want to run away and swear off boys for the rest of my life.
I’ve seen quite a few hearts break and it’s been awful. There’s nothing worse than witnessing a heart breaking knowing there’s nothing you can do to change it, the whole thing makes me question why people voluntarily fall into something that has the ability to hurt that much. I have this mentality of avoiding things that leave me feeling unhappy more than 3 times out of ten. I’m a big girl, I know that nothing worth having is easy all the time and I’m willing to deal with the difficult to get to the good, but I don’t think love works that way. I guess sometimes love can leave you unhappy 3 times out of 10 or 4 times out of ten or even 5 times out of ten but the happiness that does come out of it can almost make you forget the bad times. I don’t want that, I never want love to blind me to the point where I lose sight of reality.
I tend to be overly critical of the relationships I witness, maybe it’s because I’ve never been in that situation or because I’ve heard enough songs about heartbreak to spot the red signs. I am one to lie in bed questioning why people continually go back to people who hurt them, how people can live with themselves knowing that they’re hurting someone else, how we can put so much of ourselves into one person to the point where breaking up can leave us broken. In the words of my favourite songstress ‘love is a ruthless game’.
A part of me wants to fall madly in love, not now or in the next couple of years (only Lucky Blue Smith can get in the way of my 4 year plan) but an aspect of it terrifies me. I want perfection but I know that’s not realistic, people aren’t perfect, love isn’t perfect, I’m not perfect. I just want all of the good things; the butterflies, the magic moments, the prospect of forever and real happiness without having to sing along to sad Taylor Swift songs . Ugh I don’t even know why people let themselves fall in love.
Love illustration by Susanna April