Something that I believed would be my "nirvana". Love, one word that can make anyone smile. It made me smile. I thought being in love was the best feeling in the world. For a brief period, maybe it even was.
I associated love with endless hours of silly grinning, whispering on the phone in the middle of the night, typing out little black hearts at the end of every sentence, having a "perfect" picture framed on your table, long walks, electrifying kisses and the most exclusive hugs you can get in a lifetime.
You're probably thinking how naive all that sounds. Well, if you aren't, then I definitely am.
I grew up a little, got into a relationship. The meaning of love changed. Love meant endless hours of talk on the phone, honesty, the meaning of forever, dinner at a cozy place, talks about life, sharing our deepest darkest secrets, a relationship without judgement, laying in each others' arms through the night, heated arguments that ended with I-love-you's, hugs that froze the world around you and kisses that made you feel like you belonged.
But that passed too. The same "love" that I had given so much meaning to, left me broken hearted, lonely and desperately searching for the scattered pieces of my life.
I grew up a little more, shook off every bit of naiveness I had in me and looked straight ahead.
I started questioning the very basic associations I made with the word "love".
The little black hearts, the whispering on the phone, the love songs, the perfect hugs, the dinner dates, the kisses - they all went out the window.
Instead, hurt, rejection, caution, tear stained pillows, bars of chocolate, heart-break songs, disbelief and dismissive thoughts moved in.
When I was younger, I faced rejection from a boy who sat two seats ahead of me in class and spoke to me only when he wanted me to help him out with his artwork. I was hurt, but my heart still believed that love was wonderful.
I faced rejection again from a boy who would sing to me on the phone because I loved his voice so much. I still believed in the existence of a happy ending.
The boy who became my best friend and had me by his side the whole time rejected me too. My belief flickered, my heart cracked but I still believed.
The boy I thought I would spend forever with, changed. Endless nights of yelling and crying resulted in a broken relationship. It also resulted in a shattered heart and a belief that had seized to exist.
So here I am today, one year later - still trying to figure what I think love is. Hurt or joy? Acceptance or rejection? Security or false hopes? Little black hearts or the shattered one I'm nursing?
What is it? What is Love?
