LOVE.
“Just love me. I wanna be with you”
I wonder when my endless pursuit for true love will end, if it even exists in the first place. All my life I’ve been chasing a high that I’m not even sure I’ve ever felt. Eluding my subconscious into thinking that I am deserving of the love that I seek, even when I don’t know what it is. But is that so wrong? Isn’t that the point to all of this chasing and being chased? If it matters so much to know and understand the inherent nature of love itself, then I don’t think I would ever love anyone. I suppose there’s beauty in not knowing what it is, what it means. That you know it’s true when you’ve felt it even when an understanding is not achieved.
Nowadays, love has been such a beautiful thing for me, not a day goes by that I don’t think about her and I can only see her face when I close my eyes. Its insane to think about how easily being in love can affect so many aspects of my life, from productivity to my general mental well-being. I would be lying if I say that I’m not happy, because I am insanely thrilled to be in love again. Although when I look past the euphoria and the hypnotic bliss of all of this, I’m faced with the reality that this is not the first, nor last, time I feel this way.
What’s peculiar is that I’ve been in relationships before, from the ones that literally made me want to slit my wrist to ones that actually changed me to a better person, and I can confidently say that none of them felt like the one that I am in now. The level of intimacy and expressiveness is, quite frankly, second to none. I don’t even feel this loved by my own parents. Hence why I’m even more scared than ever before.
Every second we spend together, there’s a little voice inside my head that’s telling me that all of this will pass, this phase will be over soon and you both will grow exhausted and will resent each other. Because that is what always happens. But so what? To me, the beauty of falling in love is present after the honeymoon phase, after the endless nights of thinking how perfect they are, lies their flaws, their fears and their imperfections. These are the things that makes love real.
To love someone for the things that are appealing is one thing, but to love someone for what their flaws makes them is another. There is something special in knowing that the person you’re falling in love with isn’t just some kind of higher being that is just there to be worshipped. In knowing that they are just as human as all of us is, what I think, the essence of love itself.
I am as flawed as you are and you are as imperfect as I am. I love you for that.
