In the search for Love—why should we?

Every once in a while, I remembered my favorite line when my favorite song was being played in the air.

I’ve seen your flag on the marble arch
Love is not a victory march

Everyday, we—human beings are searching for love, waiting for it to greet us, expecting it to fall on us, in a form of a beautiful girl, or a stand-up guy, maybe a funny and out-going girl, a grown-up and a full-circle man, or like me, just a red-shirted girl.

I have always believed in love, in spite of all I’ve been saying. Love is a beautiful thing, they say, and so we believe. Love is a force to bring all of us in to peace. Love is like energy, it can neither be created nor can it be destroyed. It can only be transferred from one person’s heart to another’s. Love can give you strength. Later they call it the power of love. Love inspires you, makes you create a perfect melodious tune out of it.

Love surfaces from inside of everyone’s heart. It brings comfort and joy whenever you’re with the right person. Love makes you miss her, love makes you long for his touch. Love makes you guys holding hands. Love makes you laugh. Love makes you tickle her ear. Love makes you hug and kiss him. Love makes you marry her, then spend the rest of your life together.

There are several different kinds of love.

There is puppy love. A crush emerged from the first time you see her. A crush that is so hard to be forgotten, but when you have, you’ll just laugh and smile and wonder when you remember it again.

There is singing-in-the-bedroom love. This one is an obsessive infatuation. You think of her all the time. You miss her at all times. You can’t live any longer with none of her presence. You have the lists of your favorite songs which lyrics describe exactly what you feel about her at the moment.

There is unspoken love. This kind is the unspeakable one. It is unspoken. It is a pure love. And it is what she will regret from him as it fades away…

There is tough love. A love that can’t survive without quarrellings, hearts-broken, and distances.

There is true love. This very kind almost doesn’t exist. It’s claimed when two people believe they are soul mates to each other. The sad part is, this thing may not exist at all.

I heard there was the secret tone
That David played and it pleased the Lord

But what if I don’t care about the music? What if I don’t give a fuck about the tone? What if David is gay and I’m an atheist? Do you see my metaphor?

I am always searching for love. But it hasn’t ever come true, and I’ve begun to think that it never will.

Do I believe in love, actually? Or have I, in reality, been fooling myself, confusing with these two things: love and pain? I have shared my part in life, enough to understand that maybe love isn’t love after all. It’s more to pain and sorrow.

The definition of love has taken a back turn for me.

Love. Love is pain. Love is a horrible thing, I say, so don’t believe me. Love is a force to push the two of us apart. Love is like energy, it can NEVER be created nor can it be destroyed. It can only be SAVED inside of one person’s heart in the form of PAIN. Love can give you strength, but it will eat you from inside, and leave you overwhelmed. Later I call it the curse of love. Love inspires you, makes you create a perfect sad tone out of it.

Love surfaced from inside of my heart, but it could never be felt by the person I’ve loved. It brought comfort and joy whenever you’re with the right person, but it was a hell of paranoia and misery when you’re not. Love made me miss her, love made me long for her touch, but so badly that I lost mine. Our Love wasn’t the one that made us holding hands, it was mine only. Love used to make me laugh, but the table has been turned. Love made me tickle her ear, ah… it is still a painful memory, and it will remain that way for a while. Love made me wish to hug and kiss her. Love makes me realize that it itself doesn’t exist.

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After this

Do I still want to search for love?

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You saw her bathing on the roof
Her beauty and the moonlight overthrew you

She tied you to a kitchen chair
She broke your throne she cut your hair
And from your lips she drew the “Hallelujah”

Remember when I moved in you
The holy doves were moving too
And every breath we drew was “Hallelujah”

Maybe there’s a god above
All I’ve ever learned from love

Love is not a victory march
It’s a cold and it’s a broken Hallelujah

Incongruously, it is what I want and it will always be.