This is a collection of logs about love that I have written over the past month or so. Heartbreak, fear, yearning, and acceptance. I believe these are worth sharing.
God has tested me. My inner cry for love was loud enough for him to hear. On the day I turned 23 he gave me something perfect.
Cute, kind, smart, and creative. I would like to believe I'd view myself that way had I been anyone else. She was too much like me. I became someone else. Everything I had been doing up to that point; Art, language learning, coding, had been dropped. I killed myself. I had already failed within the first week. But it continued. I was aware of this later on. I worked at correcting this. Studied more. Switched back to linux. Journaled. Worked more. Planned things to make. But despite anything I tried to do, all I thought about was her. I thought only of holding her, massaging her scalp, holding her by her sides, listening to eachothers heartbeat, pressing herself against my chest, worshipping every part of her, leaving a thick coat of my kisses from her collar down to her shins, pleasing her and getting pleased by her. I thought too much of it. I killed myself. I failed a second time.
"There was no more mystery. She learned everything about you."
I consulted different people as she drifted away and they all said the same thing. I can't believe it. Why should I hide who I am? Keep myself hidden in a veil of mystery? That's not love. That's manipulation. I see this kind of advice everywhere. "Keep your distance from her and she will keep thinking of you", "Make it clear you have other options, so she feels driven to compete for you". "Lovebomb her, then pull back" Bullshit. These people don't deserve love. They are terrified of heartbreak. They are weak and pathetic.
She feels absolutely nothing. I am suffering and she feels nothing.
A guy I know in the other department recently went on a trip to Las Vegas all by himself. No group of friends. Just all alone, to do nothing but gamble and have sex with hookers. Something you can do right here in Ontario. My father was the same when he was my age. Constant vacations engaging in hedonistic acts that can be done in your own city. All for the status, different women every few months, different highs. Even when married, my father still engaged in these acts. Still gambled, still drank and got high, still cheated. Never repented. Never loved. These people are incapable of love. The difference between this man and my father, is that my father was in denial of who he is. He believes he is faithful. He believes he can love. Everyone in my family sees right through him. Now in his old age, he is in despair. A sad lonely husk waiting out the clock, living off of repeated scenes in his head. This other guy is fully aware. He doesn't want love. He never will get it, and he doesn't care. He knows he is rotten, and he accepts it. It is hard to tell whether or not he loves himself. Perhaps not himself, but rather what he can do for himself without the need of commitment.
There is another man. Old, ugly, fat and unhealthy with a thick, grating Portugese accent. Constantly on video call with his Filipina girlfriend. You can hear the disinterest in her voice through the speaker as he shamelessly talks outloud about how he is going to buy her things and that he will be coming there soon. I think it is all they talk about. You can tell a lot by a persons eyes. When I look at the man, I see hope. Genuine happiness. His lock screen is a photo of him and his girlfriend. His eyes are smiling bright, but the lady is wearing sunglasses. As he put his phone down in the locker room, I look over to the side and see his girlfriend on video call. She looks miserable. Her whole face was frowning. Her dead, tired eyes and mouth on a downward curve surrounded by deep wrinkles. Her glare piercing through the screen. She is not there for love. None of these women are. Two desperate parties looking for two different things. One is delusional, the other is parasitic. I can't stand the sight of this fool, but it's hard to blame him.
My biggest fears in life are turning out like any of these people. I resent my father. I despise cheap pleasures. I abhor exchange oriented relationships. Two destroy a life. The last one extracts every last living bit from it. I believe myself to be good. But I am still a fool. When all that is material is within arms reach of me, will I be able to trust anyone enough to believe I am loved by them? I'm afraid that I wont. Maybe I can resist it, but as I continue to be disappointed I pray I wont lose my will to give. I pray that I will continue to believe.
"True love" is rare. It is common to love, but it is much less than common to be loved back. That's the trade-off of love. A contract that you will have your heart twisted and pulled until you are one day heartbroken. It is the hardest road one can travel. It is easy to be transactional. To trade your body or finances for a companion. You sacrifice nothing. You expose only what is necessary, and in between you and your partner there is a void where when both parties enter their faces disappear and they become nothing but silhouettes. I dont understand how one could not commit suicide in these relationships. It is better to live for yourself.
To not believe in love is to isolate. Protected from the outside world, you can never be hurt. Pursuing passions and hobbies and materalistic desires. A cell packed full of inanimate objects. Games, books, cars, computers, paintings, plants, weights, bikes, cameras, TVs, toys, awards, outfits, junk, and treasures. Things which have no mind. They cannot hate you, and they cannot love you. They are only claimed and maintained. It is the most safe form of commitment. You can leave whenever you want, and nobody is hurt. No stress. Freedom, with no room for anyone else. Eventually you get tired. Deep down there is something missing. The realization of how truly alone you are eats you away. The lost time. The missed opportunities. The smiles and the tears you never got to experience. Despair. Apathy. You feel nothing when you are safe from love.
But most humans who have lived never experienced what we consider "true love", and that is no different today. For the most part it has been arranged and transactional. People settle. People negotiate. People check out, and when love is off the table they feel as if they are not needed. A partner that you can pour your soul into may only come once in a lifetime. It is very easy to miss it. It's very easy to fuck it up. This is after all, a living, breathing, conscious human. They can't give you everything you want. You can't give them everything they want. Love is not just hard, it is painful. It is suffocating. There is a lot one must sacrifice for it.
I cannot blame someone for giving up on love, but you should never give up on companionship. If a partner is not available for you to pour your soul into, then find a student. If you have lived, suffered, lost, and conquered, there are people out there that need your guidance. Your lessons granting hope to a young person who is scared and confused on how to navigate life will make you just as fulfilled. Love is rare, but anyone can be a teacher. Our species has conquered the world and gone where no other mammal on Earth has gone through mentorships. It is your responsibility to keep living and fighting for the sake of some kid who is experiencing the same thing you are experiencing right now. It is your job in the future to save them. It is your job to ensure they create a better life than you could have had and solve the problems that you couldn't. This kind of relationship is exchange-oriented. But it is one with a deeper meaning. It is one worth pursuing. If you don't feel loved, then be dependable. Be skilled. Be sharp. Your purpose has always been to learn, and to teach. If no torch has been passed over to you, then light one up yourself. There are people that are going to need you. Please, be around for them.