I’m going
over to my best friend’s place tomorrow. I’ll be staying
there over the rest of the week. Meeting with him is always so fun
that I wish it could happen more often. But alas, he lives too far
away. Not in a different country, thankfully, but still far enough.
In other news, I stumbled upon another interesting thread today. The thread’s poster asked what the worst thing that’d been said to people was.
The truth is, I’m not sure. I don’t remember having been said anything particularly bad. Well, the bullies aside, of course. Anyway, I’ve never been told by my parents that I’d never become anything, for instance. Neither have I been told by any of my schoolmates - in university or prior to it - that I didn’t belong in their “circle”.
It makes me feel sad to see what kinds of bullshit others have to put up with. Getting no encouragement from their own parents. Getting rejected by their acquaintances or friends. Being told by their own family that they’re a disgrace to the family name.
I think the worst thing I’ve ever been told is that I’d never experience true love. By none other than myself. As much as it hurts to admit it, I wasn’t too wrong. A lot of my “crushes” back in the day were merely instances where I found said “crush” beautiful and mistook it for love. Only recently have I learned that love doesn’t work in that way. It involves more than a visual perception that may only last for seconds.
There may have once been a time I believed in love at first sight, but I don’t anymore. Much less do I believe in the notion that only one specific person is destined to be with you forever - “The One”, if you will. There’s something about that whole concept that makes me want to punch whoever introduced that line of thinking to society. But if people insist on believing in “The One”, I’m not going to question them.
Anyway, I don’t recall ever being genuinely in love. As far as I understand, it’s supposed to involve tension, nervousness and obsessive thinking of the other person, among other things. But none of my numerous “crushes” induced any of those feelings in me. I only found them beautiful. And I’m not afraid to admit that no person will ever succeed in inducing those feelings in me in the future either. At least, the likelihood of it is very small, if not negligible.
In all honesty, loving someone is the equivalent of liking someone, only with an obsessive quality to go along with it. And until I’m convinced otherwise, I’ll keep thinking just that.