8/31/2011
The manifesto of a hopeless romantic

You. I like you.

I'm telling you this even if, I'll admit, I don't really know how much I like you. I don't know if this is love or just infatuation. I've always told myself to stop mistaking fondness for certain people for romantic feelings, and yet I could never seem to make the distinction. Or, I can make the distinction, but I still call it romantic feelings anyway.

I'm telling you this even if I know that this will tear the two of us apart, mostly because I will stop talking to you, because I will start feeling awkward around you, because I believe you will start feeling awkward around me. But really, I've done this many times, and more often than not they just shrug off my confessions as something juvenile. I don't think anybody takes me seriously, even if I often talk about how the current idea of love is unsustainable, about how it's all about impressing the ladies rather than talking about your feelings. Maybe they will take me seriously if I start shelling out money.

I'm telling you this even if I know that this will only crush me inside, because nobody except the crazy ones wants to take things to the next level. But this is perfectly fine, you'd probably say, so why ruin something that's working well in the first place? And you're right. Why say "I like you" when we can just hang out and not talk about feelings and generally acknowledge that we like each other's presence, but only in a let's-hang-out-at-the-mall-and-not-talk-about-our-future kind of way?

I know, I have the propensity of complicating things, because I mistake this for something else, and you'll think I'm being immature, and start drifting away. But you'll also tell me to follow my heart, and you'll tell me to grab that opportunity as soon as possible or live with the heartbreak forever. Only we'll all live with the heartbreak forever anyway. We always do. You see this guy make this grand gesture to this girl, making everyone believe it's forever, only to realize that it's not working out. It never does, and then someone makes a mistake, and now they're living with it forever, convincing themselves that it's love, and not a regret. And you start wondering why you try so many times when it's supposed to be magic. And magic doesn't happen to everyone.

Really, if this love thing is really what it's all made up to be, then maybe we should stop all the gestures and just start talking about feelings, yeah? I like you. I don't love you, I think, because if I say that things get really awkward and it will crush me more.

In the end, I'm telling you this because nothing lasts forever. And since nothing lasts forever - this feeling, this friendship, everything - I might as well tell you. We'll drift apart anyway, so might as well do it now, because having you around hurts me as much as the thought of not having you around.

And your responses...

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