Love doesn't Exist

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LOVE DOESN’T EXIST

It was a blistering and intense afternoon while we’re in the class. My irksome professor, who was always hailing to the glory of Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, is again uncontrollably adores his world of mirage while I, myself is looking outside the wonderful garden we have for decades ‘cause it’s much better to look at rather than my old orthodox professor. I don’t understand why people love that story so much. Why can’t they grasp the idea that there’s more to life than love. It’s just a mere emotion that us humans feel for us to be able to reproduce and appreciate each other’s existence. That’s all. Sometimes it’s ridiculous to think that humans think of themselves as different specie. That they fell for love just for the first time, or let’s say develop special feelings for someone they know for a very long time. Then they’ll feel the compatibility of their lives, as if they were born to love each other for the rest of their lives. They can’t eat, sleep and focus to whatever they were doing. They were somewhat disturbed with the feeling they were never used to feel before or again. Get married, have kids, then one day they’ll realize that they grew tired of each other and get divorced.

If love may exist, it’s not about two persons are in love with each other. It does not mean that they are couples to be classified as “in-love”. For love does not depend on the physical proximity between two persons or the commitment to look for another partner while there is an existing relationship. Love is not limited to the possession by one of the other, it means the ability to offer oneself to the one loved though there is not a bind that exists between the two. Love does not depend on the physical union of the people in-love but on the willingness of two persons to offer themselves to each other.” Therefore, if there’s noting to offer to anybody anymore, then there’s no love. That’s how I understand these lines, which I read from one of my Philosophy books. Love will always lead to tragedy, just like my irksome professor is bustling about, the Romeo and Juliet. No matter how hard you do just to find eternal love, you’ll never find it. It will always be an enigma that is so difficult to solve. It’ll be forever a deception that humans will never, ever realize or even accept. Just like my dad, an everlasting slave of his “undying” love for mom.

I was even a former believer of love. When I was little, I really adore fairy-tales with happy endings and eternal love of the princes and princesses. The Little Mermaid, Aladdin, Cinderella, Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs, Sleeping Beauty, Beauty and the Beast, name it, I’ve watched almost all of the fictional stories or dad would have read it for me when I go to sleep. Apart from those stories, there’s a story that I love the most. It was my mom and dad’s fairy tale.

Every night, before I go to sleep, he tells me their story. Mom was just high school when he met dad, while dad was in college. Mom’s a sophomore in high school while dad’s a junior in college. It was a rainy season when they met each other. Dad forgot his umbrella at home. It was really late thus he needs to get home soon. After a few minutes, he saw this young lady wearing a beige blouse with ruffles below the collar and a brown skirt. She has an umbrella so my dad asked if it’s alright to share it with her and the young lady nod her head. It was very dark that dad can’t visualize her face thoroughly. Only her smile was the only thing he can see. For him, it was the sweetest smile he had ever seen. He chatted with her ‘til they reached the bus stop. There, finally, he saw the young lady. She has a very fair skin, like porcelain, chestnut brown hair with big, bouncy curls and big tantalizing gray eyes. For him, mom was Aphrodite. It was, as if he was being fooled by his own eyes. Mom at the same time was thunderstruck when she saw dad. He was wearing a polo matched with a red vest and gray pants. He has a dirty blonde hair fixed neatly in a beret hat and somnolent amethyst eyes. Time stopped when they saw each other.

From that day forth, dad can’t help himself not to get a single glimpse of mom’s face for a day. Mom felt the same. They meet after their class every single day. At weekends, mom even runs away from home without gramps noticing her. Dad did the same. They always went to their special place, the Brandywine creek. As dad described it, it was paradise.

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