Love is a concept that is inescapable. Romantic notions are constantly instilled into us through films, literature, music, the media, and to avoid being completely pessimistic, we also see it in everyday life. From as young as I can remember I have had it drummed into me that I am loved by my family and I will fall in love when I am older, get a job, produce babies and live happily ever after. The scary part is, now I am older, and not yet in love. As a feminist and a female living in the 21st Century I would like to believe that I am an independent woman, and hence, am perfectly able to live independently without the necessity of a second-half. Unfortunately, even I don’t believe this, and I am just as bad if not worse than every other schmook out there, constantly looking for love.
As a student, I was perfectly happy passing from casual relationship (whatever that means) to relationship, enjoying having a companion to watch films with and the occasional candle-lit dinner. Perfectly happy that is, until the dreaded ‘L’ word was mentioned. I have absolutely no disinclination towards being loved. It’s a global desire to be adored and cared for by someone and I am most certainly no acceptation to this rule. However, to my disappointment, being adored wasn’t the problem in this scenario, but instead, it was that the boy informed that he ‘liked me’ but could not ‘love me’. Wow. A wound to the ego and to the heart. “Could not love me”?! Does that deem him heartless or me unlovable? I read into it as the latter, and needless to say, this was a statement I did not know how to handle. Let the over-thinking and self-torment begin.
I myself had not considered the ‘L’ word in said relationship and yet hearing that my non-love related feelings were reciprocated felt like he’d just done a massive dump on my face. What is it about the word ‘love’? What does it even mean? If he liked me and I liked him then there really should have been no problem, and yet, by ruling the romantic notion of falling in love out I felt completely deflated and internally doomed our relationship to fail. In fact ironically, from hearing that I am seen to be unlovable (cliched over-dramatic female taking a statement to the extreme), I’ve started to question whether I ‘love’ him… Consequently meaning that my love is bore from rejection or, just like Julia Roberts in My Bestfriend’s Wedding, it took a hard knock for me to realise it. But, as I refuse to admit that I may actually have feelings, I will instead pin down my confused emotional state of mind down to being melodramatic and hormonal, because naturally, female psychology is always controlled by hormones (if the Daily Mail debates it, it must be true).
And so, the enigma that is the ‘L Word’ continues to bewilder me. Only time, experience and what I assume will be a lot more humiliation will tell if it really does exist but unfortunately as a self-proclaimed romantic I won’t give up searching for it…
photo credit: <a href=”http://www.flickr.com/photos/vinothchandar/4469243936/”>VinothChandar</a> via <a href=”http://photopin.com”>photopin</a> <a href=”http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/”>cc</a>