I have never been a believer. Whether it’s religion, love, or mindless superstitions. Maybe I was a believer at some point, I mean every kid is right? At some point I believed in Santa, the tooth fairy, and in some monster that would undoubtedly eat me if I stood in the darkness. But all of this ended when I was around 12 years old. I discovered the Christmas gifts hidden in a closet and I stepped into the darkness more than once, the monsters vanished from my mind and the supernatural became nothing more than fiction. Religion followed soon after. Throughout my first communion, I read a good part of a fictional novel, I then believed to have some truth to it. This was a novel written by several people, that focuses on a bipolar array of stories that go from mercy to wrath to forgiveness. It was laughable how adults expected my 8, 10, or 12-year old self to understand this complicated array of emotions. As a 16-year-old, my confirmation did nothing but confirm the absence of what I knew had never been there, with all the conflicting stories, plagiarized and repetitive songs, and lame attempts at miracle retreats. The more I learned, the less I believed.
I have never been a believer.
But then there came love. Not the friendly, paternal, or fraternal kind of love. But the one that consumes you ever so slowly, that you become lost and blinded by it. It is the one thing that has always caused confusion in my heart, even if my mind keeps stirring straight away. Even if I know what is the right thing to do, my heart tells me otherwise. We all want to be loved, and the absence of it can be a though thing to accept. Love can be very complicated. Rom coms and dramas can’t quite capture it, they all follow the same format. A guy and a girl, a complication, and a happily ever after. They don’t tell you that love is not just one emotion, but a mix of many. They don’t tell you how you can get hurt by hurting someone. They don’t tell you that love is not a fairy tale.
I do not believe in fairy tales.
You get to the point where you ask yourself if there is something wrong with you or with the rest of the world. I bet it’s me. I want to believe in the one. But how can I do this if love has been absent for the greater part of my life? I recently felt that I had found the right person, I want to believe it with all my heart. Everything is right with him, yet there is a missing part of the puzzle. My future is uncertain. After a hurtful screw up, I found that I was the defective one. Perhaps the closest I can get to explaining the situation is the famous (500) Days of Summer, which is also one of my favorite films. It is the perfect love story gone wrong… without anything really going wrong. A girl falls in love with a boy, the boy is more into her than she is into him, she realizes this and ends it. There is not a villain in this story, or will you say she is evil for following her true emotions? That is what happened to me. And I find myself being Summer, only Summer’s life ends with a fairy tale, and I am not sure how my life is going to end.
Starting over. And over. And over.
Are you one of those believers in love who thinks only an affair can break the spell? Well, think again. Love fades, my friends. And I am here trying to figure out how to know when that person is the right person to fight for that love. I am here trying to figure out my emotions, while my opposite knows exactly what his emotions are. They are an underrated thing, emotions. Society sees them as something they’ve got to escape, I see them as something I need to hide. They are neither. They are something you need to talk about, respect, and follow. I have decided to follow my heart on this one, what feels right, right now. I do not see myself with anyone in the future, I can’t visualize myself more than three years ahead. I cannot promise him a future, but I can promise him a now. Am I the villain because of that?