Essay/Poem/Something

You possess a philosophy that is a mixture of others. Where is your true self? Why don’t you create your own philosophy? Let that stupid word into your life. Just because others decide to throw it away because it’s too much pressure, too much feeling…too honest perhaps? Who you really are is revealed when you’re in love. You claim that all in life is inevitable, especially death. You claim that love is an expected thing, an almost industrialized concept that Hallmark cards benefit from every fourteenth of February. So we might as well all be sensationalists, right? Live for the moment? Do what you feel like doing now because society doesn’t matter? Shun everything that society preaches? Sometimes, society can be wrong. But sometimes, it can be right. However, being sensational is quick and lacks any authenticity. What you feel now you won’t feel forever. Lust climaxes and ends. Love? It doesn’t always work out. Loves are broken, loves are taken away, they go unrequited, are lost--it doesn’t always last forever. But that memory will. The feelings the exuded from it, that will be buried with you the day you die your inevitable death.

The word that best describes you isn’t free. You’re trapped in your world of living different from others. I use to believe in that word, that stupid word that all silly girls giggle and laugh about. I don’t know why I did. It doesn’t coincide with my usual thought process: don’t expect much. I don’t expect much from anything: life, people--you name it. I think the reason why I believed that love existed was because I’ve seen it happen. Well, not exactly--but I knew that it existed out there for others. For some silly reason, I thought that I was special too; I was one of the lucky ones who had a chance. I thought I had a chance. Why did I think this? Because I genuinely felt happy. Sure, I’ll admit that there have been times where I’ve had my doubts. I’ve thought things through. I’ve felt disappointed by you, felt like you had no clue about what I was thinking or feeling--but I’ve let it go because in the end, it didn’t matter. They were always little, trivial things that didn’t matter in the end. Nothing that hurt us or made me hate you. I loved even your imperfections. I still do. Why? Because I still am in love with you, even though I’ve come to realize that maybe you don’t believe in such a word. Or maybe you do, but you’re scared? Either way, I don’t know. I don’t understand. I guess a silly part inside of me thinks that you’ll realize it on your own; you’ll see that love does exist and that you do love me. That the stupid word isn’t something that we should fear, but something that we should admit and accept. Sure, it’s dangerous--it opens up your heart and pastes it onto your sleeve for the world to see. I’m telling you now: love is nothing to fear. It’s nothing to be ashamed about. Can you, do you, will you ever love me? Or tell me? Sometimes your actions speak it, sometimes they say that you don’t want to because it’s too much.

Maybe it is too much. Nevertheless, you didn’t give it a chance. I’m not saying that you didn’t give me a chance. You definitely gave me a chance to be someone that’s not just anyone. But you didn’t give love a chance. Or should I say, you still haven’t given love a chance--even today. You didn’t open your arms to it or just let go. Philosophy and the refusal to adhere to stupid unwritten rules that you rebel against has created a wall. That wall stood between you and me. I stood on the other side, my palm against the brick--couldn’t you see that I was trying to find a way over to the other side? I let go. I opened up. I jumped in, I jumped into that depthless pool where there were no answers to the questions that I asked. I hurled myself into the unknown. I let down my defenses for the first time in my life. I became a better part of me.

Can’t you see that it’s not just a stupid word? Four -lettered words aren’t terrible things. They don’t create high expectations or control a romance, life, or people. Love is human, we’ve all felt it towards others, pets, hobbies, even things. Indulging in it doesn’t make you a pawn to the Structured System. So stop cracking your jokes, stop being funny and lets be serious. Shut up, kiss me, and say it. Don’t be a coward. Believe me, I will be more than glad.