Love And Formula?
L's boyfriend left her for another girl, and she is trying her best to move on.
Y can only love the woman of his dreams secretly, because she only wants to be just friends.
O is struggling with her feelings for her best friend who she knows will never return her feelings.
J has a girlfriend who he cares about, but cannot help having feelings for someone else.
H left her boyfriend because he was never there for her, but still loves him deeply.
E is gay but afraid of coming out, and confessing to the guy he likes about his feelings.
T has a controlling boyfriend who always bosses her around.
L broke up with his girlfriend many years ago, but is still unable to forget her.
S is always paranoid and afraid that her boyfriend will cheat on her.
And M?
M is writing this entry and wondering why people even fall in love in the first place, when it seems like all it brings is nothing but grief.
M is also wondering how all these people can even take problems like that and still manage to function normally on a daily basis. And yes, these are genuine stories of people that I know personally. They are as real as their problems are.
But maybe like M, they don't really function normally. They just get by, trying to hide their problems and portray the very pretense of normalcy, when they are all but. I really like the idea of that. That I am not really alone in my crazy little world of obsessing about the oddities of this thing that everyone seems to be looking for, but few has ever succeeded in being truly happy acquiring it because it is never going to be perfect enough.
Perhaps the truly happy ones are those who have acquired it, found it to be lacking, and managed to find their peace with it? Having accepted what it is and adapted themselves to it?
The thought, although disturbing, is not without its merits. Somehow the idea of changing and/or shaping oneself to suit this grand ideal of love sounds so romantic to someone who always have a soft spot for the tortured love story, that it feels almost like a great sacrifice in the name of love.
Almost.
To a certain extent, I think I have tried the whole adapting thing before. I tried going out with a younger guy two years younger than me and of a different race, I think, about four years back. And although I find myself happy for a while, it somehow ended up short. I am not sure if it was the difference in age or the difference in culture. Or maybe it's the fact that apart from a mutual attraction, we had nothing much in common. Although relationships is about adapting and getting used, but if something is not enough, it never will be. And I ran away from the relationship so fast that he pretended that he did not see me when I bumped into him on the streets a couple of years back.
Although the idea of meaning so much to someone that he will actually hate you that much is sort of tempting (let's just be honest, we all want to be that special at least once in our lives), but I guess I shouldn't be so full of myself. Maybe he really did not see me. Or maybe his bruised ego was the driving force behind his rage for someone he once said was the only person he could be himself around. Ahhh, things people say when they are trying to impress the opposite sex.
That said, I found myself wondering more and more recently what would have happened if I had stuck around? If I had just tried to get over my own uncertainties, would life be different for me now? Because it seems like even if I have found someone who is older than me, of the same race as me, and who I can definitely talk to about anything, I am still nowhere near the end of the searching bridge. All I get is another very very good friend who is very adamant about keeping it that way. So maybe the seemingly perfect formula is not so perfect after all?
Maybe each and every one of the above-mentioned are so unhappy simply because they are following the perfect formula, in the hopes of finding that perfect someone. When actually, perhaps, all they need is to toss the forumula away for once, and maybe just take some risks once in a while.
Y can only love the woman of his dreams secretly, because she only wants to be just friends.
O is struggling with her feelings for her best friend who she knows will never return her feelings.
J has a girlfriend who he cares about, but cannot help having feelings for someone else.
H left her boyfriend because he was never there for her, but still loves him deeply.
E is gay but afraid of coming out, and confessing to the guy he likes about his feelings.
T has a controlling boyfriend who always bosses her around.
L broke up with his girlfriend many years ago, but is still unable to forget her.
S is always paranoid and afraid that her boyfriend will cheat on her.
And M?
M is writing this entry and wondering why people even fall in love in the first place, when it seems like all it brings is nothing but grief.
M is also wondering how all these people can even take problems like that and still manage to function normally on a daily basis. And yes, these are genuine stories of people that I know personally. They are as real as their problems are.
But maybe like M, they don't really function normally. They just get by, trying to hide their problems and portray the very pretense of normalcy, when they are all but. I really like the idea of that. That I am not really alone in my crazy little world of obsessing about the oddities of this thing that everyone seems to be looking for, but few has ever succeeded in being truly happy acquiring it because it is never going to be perfect enough.
Perhaps the truly happy ones are those who have acquired it, found it to be lacking, and managed to find their peace with it? Having accepted what it is and adapted themselves to it?
The thought, although disturbing, is not without its merits. Somehow the idea of changing and/or shaping oneself to suit this grand ideal of love sounds so romantic to someone who always have a soft spot for the tortured love story, that it feels almost like a great sacrifice in the name of love.
Almost.
To a certain extent, I think I have tried the whole adapting thing before. I tried going out with a younger guy two years younger than me and of a different race, I think, about four years back. And although I find myself happy for a while, it somehow ended up short. I am not sure if it was the difference in age or the difference in culture. Or maybe it's the fact that apart from a mutual attraction, we had nothing much in common. Although relationships is about adapting and getting used, but if something is not enough, it never will be. And I ran away from the relationship so fast that he pretended that he did not see me when I bumped into him on the streets a couple of years back.
Although the idea of meaning so much to someone that he will actually hate you that much is sort of tempting (let's just be honest, we all want to be that special at least once in our lives), but I guess I shouldn't be so full of myself. Maybe he really did not see me. Or maybe his bruised ego was the driving force behind his rage for someone he once said was the only person he could be himself around. Ahhh, things people say when they are trying to impress the opposite sex.
That said, I found myself wondering more and more recently what would have happened if I had stuck around? If I had just tried to get over my own uncertainties, would life be different for me now? Because it seems like even if I have found someone who is older than me, of the same race as me, and who I can definitely talk to about anything, I am still nowhere near the end of the searching bridge. All I get is another very very good friend who is very adamant about keeping it that way. So maybe the seemingly perfect formula is not so perfect after all?
Maybe each and every one of the above-mentioned are so unhappy simply because they are following the perfect formula, in the hopes of finding that perfect someone. When actually, perhaps, all they need is to toss the forumula away for once, and maybe just take some risks once in a while.
posted by Keiia at 12:22 AM
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