When I first laid eyes on the title of this post, which – by the way – was so spontaneously created, I thought to myself: “How could a hopeless romantic (me) combine love and crap in one sentence and not feel guilt? Pain? Or a need for a retribution verdict? Frankly, I don’t know know how this happened, yet it did and here I am, hoping to be able to claim that I am an ex-hopeless romantic, or maybe just a reformed one!
However, and although this seems like a confession of some sort, I can’t help but wonder if it is true, and if so, to what substantial extent does it reach?
Around 5 years ago, I started my first blog and it was nothing but a cry out from love to the world. Nowadays, it feels that my blogs are nothing but tiny windows into myself that only I could pass through! Quite ironic, don’t you think?
Since I was young, really young, the idea of love taunted me and inspired me simultaneously; on the one hand, love is a fascinating feeling which captivates you and drags you into magical tales and allows you to explore your full potential. On the other, love is devastating, especially when it goes wrong!
You see the problem with love is: it can never be explained and yet it is unquantifiable thus never understandable to anyone other than the person feeling it and no matter what you say, or what you do, no one will know the depth, intensity or amount of love you feel for someone or something unless they are you…
When you try to explain the unexplainable you are, my friends, bordering insanity (not that I have anything against it, but you might!)
Alas, it doesn’t end there; there is more!
Since love can be identified as a “force majeure” to some, it is never an option to just quit it and leave; the repercussions of such a decision seem terribly terrifying to any lover! This is why people get stuck in endless and aimless searches for a way in deeper rather than a way out, thinking that that would be the ultimate haven. But they are wrong, we are all wrong: we haven’t figured it out yet (or at least most of us didn’t).
And to those who can call themselves “detached” and can easily get away when they realize the implications involved, well, cheers mates, you have done the impossible, and I do hope you do sleep at night, every night, and for the many nights to come…