"I miss being in love. I miss the make-believe conversations between someone whose heart flutters at the sound of your name. I miss it all." She twirled her hair around her finger and sighed.
"Love is an unpredictable emotion, which drives people to the edge of the cliff, screaming that they'll jump if the other person doesn't take them back. That's what love does. It suffocates the intelligent neurons in your mind, shutting them down and letting your heart's beatings control your body."
"Oh come on, don't think so pessimistically about love."
"Think of it, we bitterly roam this entire world—all for what? To find our halves? All when they aren't even searching for us. So what's the point?"
"The point? The point is to live. Without love, where does your life stand? And it doesn't even have to be romantic love. It could be your love of a career, your love of animals, plants, or coffee—whatever the heck it is, it will never die. That's your other half. The one thing that helps you breathe easily at night when the owl flies above your head. That's love. And if we can't find that, well, are we even ready to die?"
"What do you mean "ready to die"?"
"Some people are unfortunate and die too young, but those who are the lucky ones end up living till they have experienced love. That's such an important step in your thin-thread life. Before someone cuts that thread, do what you can to wrap it around with a big warm sweater knitted from love. Coat that thread life of yours with layers of emotions. Layers of sweaters. So, when you do die, you won't be cold."
"That was like a metaphor with a simile with an analogy with a description with something else-all packed into one. Well done."
"Thank you very much."
YOU ARE READING
therapy
Short Story"they told us that we needed therapy, as if medication and tainted words could fix broken toys."
