I don't believe in true love.
"Why?" you might ask. Maybe it's because of how extremely unattainable it is. Maybe it's because of how I look at the couples all around me, and how they can barely stay together for a year.
Maybe it's because I can't pretend to believe that two people can base their entire relationship on honesty, when I can't even imagine being completely honest with my sister, much less a stranger. When I see how when people are honest, others immediately attack their opinions. Of course, most of the time, their opinions are twisted and are indeed disgusting, which is why they kept quiet about them in the first place.
Some might say that a couple truly in love would look at those flaws and those ugly, ugly opinions, and accept them as part of the other person, and would love them even more for those mistakes.
But, I ask, would they ever truly accept those problems? Or would they instead try their best to ignore those ugly parts, and try to adapt themselves to the other? And of course, to try and change yourself for the other is a sign that perhaps this love is really not as beautiful as it had first seemed.
I read of the love which always seems to endure despite whatever trials and tribulations are thrown at them. Take, for example, Romeo and Juliet, the supposed greatest love story of our time. Look at the way they loved so hard and fast and deep that it ruined their lives and ultimately led to their deaths. The fact that this is considered the very epitome of love speaks a lot about us as humans.
I read of the love that builds through time, and how steady and gentle it can be, compared to the more abstract and unrealistic concept of love at first sight. This is a love more believable to me. But still, I ask myself, it seems an awful lot like platonic love built through trust and time. Mixed with a bunch of hormones and sexual desire, and there you have what many would describe as true love.
Parents then say to not read that kind of nonsense, and that in real life, love is better and bigger than whatever can be conveyed through ink on a page.
That of course, is an excuse. There are words for everything. If words can't describe something, then that thing cannot exist.
That is the power of words. It can bring to life mythical creatures from imaginary lands, but something that people say is all around us, every minute of our lives? If words can't bring those to life, then can anything?
Parents then scoff, and chide me for even trying to understand a concept like love when I'm fifteen, and concentrate on my studies. An excuse, again. They're just trying to cover up their mistake of ever thinking that true love can exist. They then leave the room to scream at each other for not washing the dishes, and for not picking up the phone, why are you not picking up the phone!
Do I believe that this vague concept of true love is just our minds and bodies trying to tell us that indeed, it is time for us to procreate? Maybe. Do I believe that maybe, instead of just a mix of chemicals and instinct, that there is something that runs deeper, through our hearts and souls? Not as much.
I see people around me in relationships that last a month or two, then after the break up, bawl for a few hours and then the next day, go hunting for new lovers, for the one. Or worse, when they remain stuck on the same person for years, even when the other person has gone to another partner and another and another, eventually forgetting about their past relationship. Then only one person breaks their heart over their relationship, while the other rides off into the sunset with a new person next to them every few months.
If that is true love, then I don't want it.