“Once upon a time, a man and woman fell in love. But such things cannot last. For the heart is a treacherous thing. And love, love is nothing more than a fairy tale.” – The Huntsman, Winter’s War
What I always thought about love since my teen is sometimes proven right. That’s why when I was asked do I know what love is, I often can not answer.
What I know is the love between mothers to their children. Or fathers to their children. Children to their parents. Sisters to their brothers. Grandparents to their grandchildren. What I believe is love within the bloodlines. Family.
Between a man and a woman is too complicated. Too many terms and conditions. It’s always sweet in the beginning, but there’s always a chance to get corrupted. Cheatings, lying, secrets, prejudice, rules, accusations and ofcourse : jealousy. At the end dreams may get shattered, hearts will eventually get broken. Some may heal, they grow stronger. Some may get colder, and also grow stronger ( to be precise : harder ).
I saw what love has done. And when love went wrong. It all caused by one thing : expectation. The more we love , simetimes the more expectations we have. And when it’s not fulfilled, then everything may go wrong.
I’m not saying that I don’t want love. But up until today, I guess I haven’t found it yet. Maybe I will. Maybe I won’t. At the moment I just follow what life is throwing at me.
In my mind, when I expect less and have more patience, its already a sign that I’m getting closer to what so called love. Just like how I feel towards my children, to my parents, to my siblings. And I still haven’t found, what I’m looking for.