(psst… I wrote volume II in December 2016, check it out by clicking here.)
It’s 3:28 at night, and I need to start work on a bunch of stuff I’ve been procrastinating for weeks. Well, I guess I can wait another hour.
I’ve wanted to write about this forever, but I just couldn’t. I was either too happy to think rationally, or too sad. I guess I do work in extremes.
I’m scared to admit it, but deep inside, I’m a hopeless romantic. (I know, I don’t look or talk like it.) I love the concept of love. I love watching other people talk about love. I love hearing other people’s stories of love. Heck, I just love love. But in no way does this mean that I crave it, or need it. I just enjoy it from afar.
I guess we’re all mature enough to understand that love is so much more than what meets the eye. Love, is the deep-rooted answer to most of our worries, and yet is the most perplexing thing I’ve come across. (Yes, it surpasses Physics in terms of being confusing.)
When I ask teenagers of love, most blush and talk of their girlfriends/boyfriends, or the lack of them. I never believed love could be that simple, that easy to attain. I never believed love could be so common. I always thought love was so much more than stolen kisses or pompous dates. It’s something that each of us feels differently. If you judge by teen slang, I’ve never been in love. But I know that’s not true. I’ve been in love with so many people, in so many different ways.
In a way, I’m scared of ever falling in one of those all-consuming, life-changing kinds of love. I like being in control, of having the ability to plan my life exactly as I want to. I don’t want to ever have to keep someone else and their happiness in mind while making a huge decision. I’m selfish, yes. But it’s just a whole lot better this way.
I’ve now reached that point in the middle of my writing process where I have so many thoughts but so little words. Bear with me.
I was, and am, a teenager. I’ve watched movies, read books, had random crushes on the ‘popular and oh-so-hot’ boys of our school. But I never, even for a second, thought that was love. That couldn’t be, it was too drab. It was too meaningless. It was too easy to fake.
But now as time has passed, I’ve had some pretty amazing and some pretty horrific experiences in this entire ‘teen romance’ section of life (mostly horrific). I’m honestly over it now. I finally believe that I’m old enough and experienced enough to fully understand what love is and how to use it. I don’t need a ‘boyfriend’ to be truly, deeply in love.
The teens of today have so much power, so many dreams. And trust me on this, you don’t need someone to guide you along the way and to hold your hand through the journey. You don’t need someone else to make you feel good about yourself. YOU, and you alone, can dream. YOU, and you alone, can achieve it. Success is right in front of us, people. I can see it. So can you. Fight for what you want, and do it alone if you goddamn have to.
I have best friends whom I love from the bottom of my heart. I’ve people that I love now, and I don’t need to put an official label on the relationship to tell the world where we stand. If we’re happy, does it really even matter?
I love writing.
I love reading.
I love writing on the crisp, new and inviting pages of my poetry journal.
I love spending hours having meaningless Facebook chats with people who mean the world to me now.
I love carrying a blanket and hot chocolate to the balcony at night, and watching the stillness calm me.
I love that feeling of immense euphoria when I sit for 8 long hours in coaching classes and then solve an increasingly articulate equation in the end; then sharing a plate of totally unhealthy chilli potatoes with my friends while we all laugh about something funny our teacher might have said that day.
I love the feeling of returning home from classes at 10 with my friends and feeling the wind swish past our hair and ruffle our notes; and we all know we’re going back home and studying just a little bit more before calling it a fruitful day.
I love getting good grades on a test for which I had stayed up 3 nights in a row trying to attempt every single Chemistry question I could find in every single resource book.
My statement still stands.
I am a hopeless romantic.
I love love.
(Want to know how my thoughts changed, yet remained the same after a couple years? Read volume II by clicking here.)