Escaping Into Love
Before you read any further, I must warn you that this may turn out to be a sad topic, depending on how you interpret what I have written. I know the title might also confuse some of you – how can you escape INTO something when the goal is to get out of it? I hate talking about my feelings so I’ll put it in as few words as possible: TODAY I’M SAD, and I don’t know why.
I’m going to stay by my aunt today (my dad’s sister-in-law), and when she visited 2 days ago I asked her how she met my dad’s brother and married him. I was hesitant to ask because my dad’s brother passed away a long time ago, but I just love hearing these stories from the past. My dad has been trying to
tell me how he met my mother for 4 years now, and it’s taking so long (and I’m hearing it piece by piece) that it may as well have been made into a TV show. My aunt told me a few good stories about her husband, the uncle I would never know (he passed away before I was born), and I’m hoping she’ll continue her tale when I see her.
It suddenly sparked something in me 10 minutes ago – is it possible to love someone you’ve never met? When my dad tried to tell me how he met my mother, the stories involving his brother were grim. But when his sister-in-law spoke about her late husband, they were magical and tear-jerking accounts of someone I will never meet. Even when I was told all the negative things about my late uncle, I knew then that I loved him, and my whole life I’ve always wondered how different things would have been if he hadn’t been in that accident. Would he have continued to display all the negative things said about him, or would he have sided with me when my parents and I had a fight, taken me to Sunday Motor Shows and bought me McDonald’s when I stayed over?
What about when a woman is pregnant, and her mother knows immediately that she loves her unborn grandchild. She doesn’t know what kind of person the baby will grow up to be, how the baby will look or even if the child will love her back. She just knows, unconditionally, and not expecting anything in return that she loves this tiny person she hasn’t even met.
Are we blinded by all the good things we think could happen if we finally meet the one we love but never knew? Are we holding onto an image of them in our mind that doesn’t exist, but given the chance could become a reality? My friends and I asked, “If love could be bottled, what colour would it be?” The one said love would be pink – like happiness, candyfloss, childhood memories and innocence. The other said love is supposed to be a deep red –
passion, desire, intensity. Love is something not to be taken lightly, it should be as strong as the colour it is associated with. I didn’t want to say it but my
opinion just spilled out: I thought love should be colourless or black. But I couldn’t think of a reason love shouldn’t have a colour, so I instead said love
(if bottled) would be black. Love gives you everything and leaves you feeling like you have nothing when it’s gone; it’s intense and dark, clouds your
judgment and blinds you just like the colour black. It’s the reason people still say they love someone who has been abusing them for years, and is a sad excuse for putting up with someone who doesn’t appreciate us. It’s unrequited and destructive when the Honeymoon phase is over; and it hurts to be in love, to love someone and to know that someone loves you so much they would do or put up with anything. My friend who said love would be pink was the one who asked the question. Her boyfriend actually gave the best answer. Love, if bottled, would be colourless: Clear, honest, nonjudgmental, does not asking for anything in return, not jealous and there are no ulterior motives. Love is supposed to be pure, and purity is clear. It doesn’t have a colour.
I’m a person that worries about the future, and that’s why I thought love is black. Now I completely agree with my friend’s boyfriend that it is supposed to be colourless. I used to be scared of loving someone (even too much) – be it family-wise or in terms of romantic relationships – because when someone you love hurts you, it takes everything from you. It leaves you feeling empty and black. It’s actually worse to love someone you’ve never met, because the truth could leave you disappointed. But I think I’ll take my chances and jump in wholeheartedly like a dumb fool, without using my common sense and brain to guide me. It’s better to escape INTO love – of any kind.
But how do you find IT, may you ask? In my opinion, love is having an amazing conversation with someone you have nothing in common with and still finding them fascinating; it’s crying for your country at the Olympics and mourning over the state of the world. It’s not just a feeling, but a state of mind, behaviour, action, idea and conviction. It’s not appreciating someone and then realizing your fault when they’re gone; walking slowly so that the journey with them doesn’t have to end; giving them the bigger piece of cake; going to the ends of the world so that they never have to. It’s finding a friend in an unlikely place, choosing the scrawnier dog, never complaining for their ease of mind and being able to see everything clearly just by looking into a newborn’s eyes.
So open up that crystal clear bottle and inhale the only thing that keeps us human at heart. I now understand that there’s nothing wrong with loving an idea or the idea of someone, even if the road ahead leads to a dead-end of disappointment.
Love is a road full of speed humps telling you to slow down, on the way to a long deserved holiday. Love is just that – a blissful holiday at the end of a road full of twists, dead-ends, ditches, and confusing signs. A holiday is an escapement from reality, but love is an escapement into it.
And loving someone or something, even if no one loves you? It’s the best gift you can give.
It’s like when a father gives his daughter a Honeymoon package as a gift on her wedding day. Love is the craziest trip you can ever go on, even after the Honeymoon phase is over and all you’re left with is an empty bottle that used to be full of whatever colour your love used to be.
To those who love me and are on this vacation with me, thanks for the company.
This is my favourite holiday.
I’m going to stay by my aunt today (my dad’s sister-in-law), and when she visited 2 days ago I asked her how she met my dad’s brother and married him. I was hesitant to ask because my dad’s brother passed away a long time ago, but I just love hearing these stories from the past. My dad has been trying to
tell me how he met my mother for 4 years now, and it’s taking so long (and I’m hearing it piece by piece) that it may as well have been made into a TV show. My aunt told me a few good stories about her husband, the uncle I would never know (he passed away before I was born), and I’m hoping she’ll continue her tale when I see her.
It suddenly sparked something in me 10 minutes ago – is it possible to love someone you’ve never met? When my dad tried to tell me how he met my mother, the stories involving his brother were grim. But when his sister-in-law spoke about her late husband, they were magical and tear-jerking accounts of someone I will never meet. Even when I was told all the negative things about my late uncle, I knew then that I loved him, and my whole life I’ve always wondered how different things would have been if he hadn’t been in that accident. Would he have continued to display all the negative things said about him, or would he have sided with me when my parents and I had a fight, taken me to Sunday Motor Shows and bought me McDonald’s when I stayed over?
What about when a woman is pregnant, and her mother knows immediately that she loves her unborn grandchild. She doesn’t know what kind of person the baby will grow up to be, how the baby will look or even if the child will love her back. She just knows, unconditionally, and not expecting anything in return that she loves this tiny person she hasn’t even met.
Are we blinded by all the good things we think could happen if we finally meet the one we love but never knew? Are we holding onto an image of them in our mind that doesn’t exist, but given the chance could become a reality? My friends and I asked, “If love could be bottled, what colour would it be?” The one said love would be pink – like happiness, candyfloss, childhood memories and innocence. The other said love is supposed to be a deep red –
passion, desire, intensity. Love is something not to be taken lightly, it should be as strong as the colour it is associated with. I didn’t want to say it but my
opinion just spilled out: I thought love should be colourless or black. But I couldn’t think of a reason love shouldn’t have a colour, so I instead said love
(if bottled) would be black. Love gives you everything and leaves you feeling like you have nothing when it’s gone; it’s intense and dark, clouds your
judgment and blinds you just like the colour black. It’s the reason people still say they love someone who has been abusing them for years, and is a sad excuse for putting up with someone who doesn’t appreciate us. It’s unrequited and destructive when the Honeymoon phase is over; and it hurts to be in love, to love someone and to know that someone loves you so much they would do or put up with anything. My friend who said love would be pink was the one who asked the question. Her boyfriend actually gave the best answer. Love, if bottled, would be colourless: Clear, honest, nonjudgmental, does not asking for anything in return, not jealous and there are no ulterior motives. Love is supposed to be pure, and purity is clear. It doesn’t have a colour.
I’m a person that worries about the future, and that’s why I thought love is black. Now I completely agree with my friend’s boyfriend that it is supposed to be colourless. I used to be scared of loving someone (even too much) – be it family-wise or in terms of romantic relationships – because when someone you love hurts you, it takes everything from you. It leaves you feeling empty and black. It’s actually worse to love someone you’ve never met, because the truth could leave you disappointed. But I think I’ll take my chances and jump in wholeheartedly like a dumb fool, without using my common sense and brain to guide me. It’s better to escape INTO love – of any kind.
But how do you find IT, may you ask? In my opinion, love is having an amazing conversation with someone you have nothing in common with and still finding them fascinating; it’s crying for your country at the Olympics and mourning over the state of the world. It’s not just a feeling, but a state of mind, behaviour, action, idea and conviction. It’s not appreciating someone and then realizing your fault when they’re gone; walking slowly so that the journey with them doesn’t have to end; giving them the bigger piece of cake; going to the ends of the world so that they never have to. It’s finding a friend in an unlikely place, choosing the scrawnier dog, never complaining for their ease of mind and being able to see everything clearly just by looking into a newborn’s eyes.
So open up that crystal clear bottle and inhale the only thing that keeps us human at heart. I now understand that there’s nothing wrong with loving an idea or the idea of someone, even if the road ahead leads to a dead-end of disappointment.
Love is a road full of speed humps telling you to slow down, on the way to a long deserved holiday. Love is just that – a blissful holiday at the end of a road full of twists, dead-ends, ditches, and confusing signs. A holiday is an escapement from reality, but love is an escapement into it.
And loving someone or something, even if no one loves you? It’s the best gift you can give.
It’s like when a father gives his daughter a Honeymoon package as a gift on her wedding day. Love is the craziest trip you can ever go on, even after the Honeymoon phase is over and all you’re left with is an empty bottle that used to be full of whatever colour your love used to be.
To those who love me and are on this vacation with me, thanks for the company.
This is my favourite holiday.