In the context of love and loss, it couldn’t be more spot on. Love is a losing battle. Especially if you factor in distance, space and the whole nine yards. I can attest to that. Tenfold.
I suppose coming from a failed 4-year long distance relationship, I would’ve made the conscious effort not to go through the same old road again. Afterall, I should’ve learned from the throng of problems that tread along with LDR.
It’s frustrating; daunting even just to make things work. Love on its own is nothing short of mere lunacy. Trust, honesty, faithfulness and belief does. Just like it should be.
But being stubborn becomes of me.
More importantly, when the heart starts to do the talking, the rest follow.
I become one-dimensional.
Priorities start to shift.
Grey area appears between the important and a rash decision. The world begins to revolve around this one cathartic person.
It is detrimental to say the least. But that’s just me in-love.
It has always been that way. It’s unhealthy to love someone leaving less for everything else let alone yourself. Because once it fails, you’re left with nothing to help mend the broken pieces. Call it suicidal or masochistic, but like I said, that’s just me in-love.
So here I am giving LDR another go. Perhaps, riding on a distant whim that maybe this time things will be different. I’ve always kept high hopes, you know. I brim optimism like that. Or it’s the inner hopeless romantic in me that says, ‘Go ahead, be morbid!’. For one, it’s always a choice. It could’ve been easier to just forget about it and jump into bed with the first guy you see on the train home. Or simply bail out on everything because it’s the easy way out. There’s too many fish in the sea, afterall. But that’s not really the point. You see, a person goes in a relationship fully aware that anything can happen let alone long distance relationships. That’s just the way it is. You decided to love. If it’s worth it, clock in the effort. It’s a choice and you take chances; not necessarily expecting the quintessential but the tendency to expect better things is there. At least you are trying. At least I am trying.
I like to think I am fearless because you’re making me. I remain stubborn inspite of my failed experiences because you always say we will be alright. We fight, we get jealous, we feel insecure. But at the end of the day, we remind each other that these are just parts of what we have signed for. Our love story is one that is flawed and imperfect. And I’m already being generous when I say that. But we continue to thrive.. and we keep on trying and trying and trying. I think that’s what matters most.