Hard Love

Nobody taught me how to love. I don’t think anybody teaches you that. We just love, we are not given lessons on love. We are taught hate, how to hate, what to do to intensify that hatred. But love, there aren’t any lectures happening for that. We are taught to be kind and to be just and fair, we soon learn to love, I guess.

I have no idea how I started loving, anyone other than my friends and family. I remember all the crushes I had since forever, all the friends I made, all the people I loved even though there were no labels for them. I wish somebody taught me how to love. Not the process of loving, more like ‘how to love without hurting yourself, ‘how to love without losing your shit.’ I wish I had gotten some lessons on that. Just so that I don’t end up hurting anyone or myself.

For all the fire and earth I have inside me, I dissolve like a tooth in Coke when in love. I lose my ability to think past it. I used to. Now that I have thought past it, I can’t stop thinking past it. I see all the mismatched breaths and twists, and all the incompatibility, and all that doom, and I stop. I don’t know which is worse: to love so hard that you turn stupid or be so aware and cautious that you never let yourself get closer to anyone beyond a point. Oh, all this is romance. Friendships are easy loves. They don’t demand anything, like romance. I am too comfortable and capable of holding friendships that I have stopped looking for anything further, anything different, and anywhere. Friendships don’t hurt like crazy. Friendships don’t make you puke because you cried so hard. Friendships are lifeboats when I am drowning in love.

Being a hopeless romantic who is aware of the way they love is hard, in conclusion.