The love spell

I have been thinking a lot about love and I hate it. The last thing I wanted to do was make this blog about love but seems like it’s taking over my mind so please, bare with me. Love is something I try avoiding but guess it’s inevitable.

I see now that I don’t believe in love. Love is a choice. We don’t just fall in love. We decide we want to love, who we want to love, and when we want to do it. Our first actions on love are usually guided by the physical appearance.

In my case, I’ve realized I attract all kinds of weirdos. I say that because all those that have told me that they are interested have never been my type. If I entertain it’s because I compromise so I can go deeper and figure out what it is that I like about the person. Actually that is what you’re expected to do while entering a relationship by basically taking a cheap shot and hoping for the best.

My types of guys are usually too busy being chased by other fine girls and I’m not that type of girl. I’d rather watch from the sideline, admire, and desire to be chased. Normally that doesn’t happen. Good guys are usually taken and I respect that. In the long run, I never get what I want.

In result, I’ve been contempt with the idea of being single; that I don’t even bother or care for those that make moves. I’m not really in the mood of settling… assuming that everyone I want is taken and the trend recurs. What’s to say I could give the time of day to those who holla? Besides, I’m never interested.

I had an interesting discussion with one of my close friends where she told how she was inspired by some romance story she had read about in some magazine. She shared the story with me and yes it was indeed beautiful like she had said. She pointed out that she hadn’t given up on love and that I shouldn’t too. I guess I reek of everything against love.

Though what is love? Don’t get me wrong, am a sucker for love. I mean sucker for love as a third persona. I could read all the romance novels and movies in the world. Who wouldn't love a good love story and want to get lost in their love spell. In the end of it all the same remains; we are all born differently. We all have our own stories. Just because someone else found love, doesn’t mean I will. As of yet, my love story hasn't been written. 

Meanwhile I've realized we don’t get married because we love each other. We marry for convenience, companionship. The most important thing in marriage is commitment, not love. That’s what makes us last longer. Maybe one day I will choose to notice that loser that loves me. Maybe then I’ll chose to learn to love them, settle down with them, get married... because in that case it’s better to be loved than to love.

Lovelorn

Funny how you don't know someone and yet when you see them for the first time, your heart skips a beat, you forget to breath, your world spins because your drawn to them, lost in the stare. Perhaps a physical attraction, I’m not really sure what to call it.

It feels like I had a past life with them in it and that we loved each other. That our love is overflowing from then to now and so we have a connection. I see you looking; I feel it, along with the sense of déjà vu. The love force so strong, it creates an attraction pull that only our worlds beyond can explain. All we do is keep a daze because we don’t understand it, more so it’s a beautiful thing. I decide fate must have brought us together.

In that moment I’m always lost for words. I’d never be the first to say anything and because I don’t say it, I never know. I assume that the feeling is mutual. Normally the moment is replayed slower in my head, as if time froze over; yes, a slow-motion occurrence. Even if it feels unreal, no matter how many times I second guess, I tell myself over and over again and reassure myself that you must have felt it too. Well at least I hope you did. So then I allow it, I enjoy the moment, I swirl in it, make it last forever, daydream. Until I’m lost in my thoughts since that’s as far as it ever goes, I create a whole world for both of us and imagine what we could have been.

Familiar is only measured by a moment not a life time. If it lasts any longer it’s a lifestyle. Therefore, I know that moments like this don’t last forever. In other words I will never see you again. If am lucky maybe fate will be kind and bring you back to me. That maybe we will see each other again; have another moment. Maybe then I’ll have courage. Either way, why even bother? It’s not like we were meant to be, or were we?

Eventually you disappear. You are only a memory. I don’t see you again. I’m hurt, as if it were real. It must have revised it so many times because I don’t remember it clearly. I can’t tell the difference with what I made up and what was real. I am stupid for dwelling in the moment and crying for something we never had. I tell myself;

 “It isn’t worth it, never was. I’ll never love. I am lovelorn.”