I think, I love.
I failed love.
I thought I could champion it with my inexperienced soul and mind, but I failed love.
Love came behind me when I was preoccupied with thoughts of success and the desire to succeed.
Love came as a surprise. It came when I had no conception of any romantic feel and the emotion to actually make myself feel; because love came the first time I saw and sensed it.
It was a judgment of logical presuppositions, void of any speck of emotion. I tried injecting emotion, but it was too much to take for me, too much abstraction, too much vagueness, and too much turbulence of inexplicable feelings my mind could not take, could not fathom, and could not understand.
Thus my contract went as simple as this: you like me, and I like you, so what’s the point of taking everything into a long walk? And it happened, upon my sense of awkwardness and uncertainty of things.
Love was confused. It wasn’t sure if it was queer or grained in the norms. Love was playful. But it was deceitful. Love was believable, believing of genuine emotion that which I processed as real and logical. But it was at the same time suspended upon complexity and uncertainty.
Thus my contract pushed through like there was no agreement. I was projecting tomorrow as though what’s about to happen is bound for just a single point out there.
But love got tired. It got tired of my pushing and pulling to that single direction despite my understanding that it wasn’t headed that way. But I struggled to live and let love live because I thought it was all I could ever have. Love is manipulated. Love can be dictated upon. Love has no mind. Love is all mine. But love wasn’t really mine right from the very start.
I got tired. I decided, but remained emotionally bottled up. I got exhausted and sad, really sad and lonely. But I had to live and move along.
Today, I speak of love not as something as that which hurts me. I speak of love as beyond the capacity of the mind, and more of what the person in me feels.
I have originally conceived my idea that love is a balanced exchange of expectations, offers, and good. There must actually be that two-way exchange. It must be equal. But it changed, because love does not thrive in that idea. It thrives beyond what mind can control.
To love is a diabolical process of ins and outs. It is a chess match of trying to test the waters because things may drastically change along the way. Love does not coincide with what a single individual conceptualizes of it. It lives on the idea that it’s to be felt and thought later on. That, yes it can be uncertain. But the process of feeling, of hurting, of crying inside, of feeling lonely deep down, yet there is still that inkling to give is love.
I reckoned to myself that I was concerned of where love is headed when the process and the pathway itself is love.
I always am cerebral. I use reason more than anything because it guards me from the utter disaster of emotions, the uncontrollable ones. But this rendered me feeling false emotions, synthesized through a series of phases. And now I am as confused as love during the beginning. But this confusion is not out of vagueness of emotions. It was born out of fear of hurt, the fear of rejection, and fear of being unwanted, because to be wanted is enough pleasure.
But I felt that love does not necessarily thrive in that. It lives and grows, and runs through bumpy roads filled with deep cries, profound feelings, and endless struggle to be finally harnessed into its very form.
Love is experienced and told as the romantics would say. Love is never a dictum of instructions and syllogisms premised upon an actual end. It is a beauty of feeling and just getting along, of feeling the flow of how things go regardless if there was a completely balanced exchange of sorts. It is the experience, the journey of proving, and the discovery of love that makes love itself.
I always think I can love. I always think I can feel it. I always think I can definitely handle it.
But I forgot to experience it because to love is not to think. It is an uncertainty, the pursuit of an unknown much like faith when reason ends.
It is simplistic to say that the mind can never work harmoniously with emotion. They always end up disarrayed on surface because they just could not reach a point of agreement much like the contract I had.
But I want to love. I want to feel it. I don’t want to think anymore.
I want to love. I want love to come again. But when it comes, I will surely stop thinking. I will just let time pass because I want to love.