Friday, March 03, 2006
Hmmmm... I received my first love confession this year. I always thought these things would be utterly and hopelessly romantic and dreamy and both parties would be mutual about their feelings for one another. There will be a soft sugary sweetness in the air, a kind of sheepish look on both their faces, and everything will just be so cute. I also thought I would be more confident, more exuberant, if such a thing were to happen to me.
Even though I had a huge crush on him last year for about 4 months or more, and it should be a kind of "all my dreams come true" sort of thing. In fact I only felt absolute shock and disgust at his words, and my self-esteem has fallen about 101% now. The whole thing was too sudden, too much, too cold, too distant, too unromantic, too wrong. There's this constant self-doubt that plagues me, "Why me?"
Why me when I know who you are. Yes I know how hard you try to hide it away from the rest of the world, but I see it, I am always seeing it, and I always try to be there for you. Even though after spending time with you, I learned that you are obnoxious, flirtacious, self-centered, and you always lie, I accepted you for who you are. Because I saw that behind that elaborate facade that you wear every single day, you are fragile, and you are insecure, and you are lonely, and you need someone to care for you.
Because every word that you said convinced me that you did not like me, much less love me as you professed so senselessly.
Because you don't know what love is. And neither do I, but yet I do... vaguely, I have a faint inkling that lingers in my mind.
Love is honesty, gentleness, sacrifice, patience, thinking for him/her before thinking for yourself, making him or her happy for all times, wanting to protect him/her, among other things.
What you offered me- that wasn't love, that was a hollow black hole. You told me to fill it up, you told me how much you longed to be loved, and you showed me how desperate you are. Anyone will do. Anyone who shows you even the slightest concern, who takes the effort to talk to you and give a sweet little smile. Anyone who is always nice to you. Anyone will do. I... I, am that "anyone". I am that "anyone" you grabbed from anywhere, just because I happened to be there. And because you are afraid of losing the attention I give you, petrified of losing my friendship, my presence, my little pieces of encouragements and smiles and laughter scattered here and there, you don't want to lose me- and you confuse that with love.
And I... I am just a tool to fix a piece of you.
Sitting there, with my heart giving a final lurch before it fizzled out, watching him speak, I just felt so angry and sad. I wanted to ask him, "Did you think about how I would feel? How long have you been liking me? Why tell me now?" But I couldn't because all my questions whipped me back with answers I put into his own mouth. And because my mind was logical enough to think and think and think and churn out words that were decently diplomatic, and it couldn't handle anymore thinking apart from this.
I was chatting with a friend of mine online. He said that he loved many girls at the same time. That he was troubled, not by one girl, but by a few at the same time. He wanted to "explore options that I wasn't brave enough to". I felt like slapping him after he wrote that over MSN. I wanted to say something like, "Girls are not 'options' you bastard!" But of course I didn't. Haha. Mmmm... I replied, "Then that is not love. Love has no options. When you are in love, you have no choice but to explore that one and only option."
He responded, "I never said they were loves."
"Well then don't bother exploring them."
Because you will not only break your own heart, you will break the hearts of many others. Because options are just excuses to give yourself the opportunity to flirt and to hurt. Because when you love, you can only love one. And if you simply only 'like' them, then just take a step back, just be friends with them and get to know them better. When you like someone, it is nothing. You can like anybody. You can like many at the same time. But when you love, you love only one.
The next time any guy or girl has the urge to make a stupid love confession, please search your heart and ask yourself, "Is this love?" How do you know? Are you ready for a relationship? Do you even know what it means, what it takes to be in a relationship? And will you die if you do not confess? If you will not die, kindly take a few moments to consider how the other party would feel. Because to confess your love without any certainty that your love will be reciprocated will be to expose yourself to constant irrevocable turmoil. Furthermore, to drop your heavy burden of unwanted affections on the one you only wanted to see happy is really so selfish and irresponsible.
You can play with anything, but never play with hearts.
Because there will be deaths and murders and suicides and so much blood and insanities and regrets and guilts and torments.
Okay okay, the self-contradictory feminist who doesn't even believe in love shall end her idealistic ramblings here. Ciao.
Posted by Faith at 8:24 pm