Love as a Choice

Love as a Problem (Part 1)

A: Oh dear friend, I need advice for a problem. To be fully honest, it is concerning one of the most classic problems in the history of men. It is the problem of love, my friend. I have fallen in love with a beautiful girl, a girl that I would sacrifice the entire world for. However, she is still the biggest problem in my life. Since I know that she is not healthy for me. The basis for this reasoning is simple: she has no interest in me and would choose anyone over me. Logically, one would then think that I would leave it at that, to concede my defeat and to turn my life around. I am unable to, however, because my life has been in her hands the moment I saw her eyes. I know that this is very dangerous but it lies in the nature of addiction that one wants more than is healthy for them. I have therefore made the choice to love someone who will never love me. Someone that could walk past me and never sense the fact that my bleeding heart is yearning to be with them. Someone on which my entire existence depends but this dependability could easily be thrown away by that very same person. In the history of love, one can encounter descriptions of their loved ones given by lovers which state that the loved one is the bane of their existence. Usually, when one uses these words, one wants to express that the existence of someone is like a source of misery for them, that their presence brings a certain amount of sadness to their mood. I would describe the object of my love as the bane of my existence but I wish to give it another definition, or rather, an old definition, which has been rather neglected in our culture. When one looks at the study of plants, botany in its formal name, the use of the word bane refers to plants which are poisonous. I would thus describe her more as poisonous for me, instead of a mere source of misery. The love I have for her is poisonous, since it will be the sickness I will have until my death. Normally, people would want to be cured of their sickness, to be healthy again, but again, I have chosen to be sick, I have denied the cure and I am thus in love with someone who does not love me.