If there’s anything I’ve learned in my years here on earth, it’s that people are funny little creations. As we are, our bones break, our joints ache, and our skin gets scraped. Our minds can turn to mush, and we can die from the inside out, but the worst and most fragile part of us funny little humans is our hearts.
The heart is vital to life, but also to love. We’d be so much less fragile if we had hearts of steel. We can give our heart up to someone else. That’s why love is so dangerous. “…One stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life…” and you give them the most vital piece of yourself. You give that person your heart, because you’ve fallen in love with this person.
Niel Gaiman said that, and he’s developed my personal favorite philosophy on love, ending in “I hate love.” He goes on to say that this person you love can make or break you. And he’s right. You gave this person your heart, and they can do whatever pleases them to it.
“So simple a phrase like ‘maybe we should be just friends’ turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination.” This is true. It happend to me. Why should it? I’m just a stupid teenager. But I have emotions, as fickle and bipolar as they may be.
I do believe in love, despite all my cynicsm. Love is real, no denying it, but I do hate it. It is a fickle, horrible, cruel emotion. Ask any American who is part of the 50 percent divorce rate, or anyone with a phenomenal relationship which ended prematurely.
The thing I am a total cynic towards is fairytales. “True Love” and “true love’s kiss??” Yeah, sorry kiddies, those can’t exist, and in fact they don’t. It really isn’t possible. I wish it was, and being the girly girl that I am deep down, I still crave one. I still go outside and wish on the evening star for my fairytale ending with the dress and the prince and the kiss, but I know it won’t happen. I haven’t really put much blind faith in wishes anymore.
My dad’s philosopy on love is that it is always a fight. He says, “Love is a constant fight. You’re not always yelling, but you’re always fighting for the other person, even if you’re fighting with them. It’s a war, and it can either be bloody or beautiful, but don’t just sit around and wait for a prince that doesn’t exist or won’t come. Life is never that easy, especially in love, because that is the biggest challenge ever.” I quite like daddy’s idea too.
Finding love can be so rewarding and amazingly fantastic. However, it can also be that hole in your side that stabs at you daily. Sometimes, it’s those people who seem so strong and fine during the day who also cry themselves to sleep at night from having love’s scars opened by memories. It must be that way for me, or it’s likely I wouldn’t be writing this.