The feeling of experiencing it, that one feeling of bliss, those butterflies in your stomach, the fluttering of the heart…I hate it. I despise it and wished I never would’ve felt it in the first place.
The first time I felt it I enjoyed the feeling, it felt as if I was one step closer to happiness, one step closer to my dreams. That feeling as if you’re in the clouds with that someone special, and you wished it would last long. What made it worse was how long it lasted. Days, weeks, months…getting used to it was the worst part of all. The positivity, motivation, inspiration, for once I had a surge of those things…then one day it was gone.
It was once there, then it disappeared. Love is some sort of drug isn’t it? Or that one favourite food that you would randomly crave from time to time.
I hate the bliss. I hate that feeling of ecstacy brought by that one person that made you feel special…and didn’t commit to it. Maybe I hated the fact that it lasted in a way that I got used to it…or maybe, I hated the loss of commitment.
I know for one thing, I dislike the way that it hurts me.
The way that right after that tragedy, I have a sardonic image towards love, towards affection, towards that potential person that I would hold a future together. Those times where I’ll just illustrate a bitter aspect of love then all of a sudden crave for that feeling once again. Those moments where I would have a cynical perspective about love then I would dream of experiencing it perfectly with the right person.
This rollercoaster of emotions hurts me. It’s hard to tell if it was my doing or the other, was it something about me or the other. Just this train of thoughts that would lead me to confusion, moreover self-deprecation. I’m not one person to blame it to the others. I would think… “I must’ve done something…”
My life was all peaceful until this fake image of love showed up, gave me hope, awakened that part of me that made me feel… exceptional, those usual feelings that aren’t usually felt. Then as it ended, not only left a huge empty pit in my heart, but stained my head with words that I thought would be true, crushed every single hope that I had…as if it took a part of me that I didn’t expect was there.
The three things as to why I hate that feeling called Love.