For some time now, I have been a cynic about whether there really exists such a thing as 'true love'. When you hit rock bottom, as far as your emotions are concerned, you tend to question every thing that you have taken for granted, all your life and the ultimate incurable romantic that I was, transformed into the biggest love cynic, all in front of my own very eyes.
I have seen marriages happen out of so called love, and then I have seen them dis-integrate as rapidly as they were formed.
I have seen people talk about warm fuzzy feelings whenever they think about someone special, but who just can't plain tolerate the same person after some amount of time has passed.
I have seen people scared to let their better half know about a certain aspect of their personality, lest it ruin their marital life.
I have also seen countless relationships begin with people deliberately hiding stuff about their past. I have also seen people facing issues in future just because they were not honest enough about their past to begin with.
I have seen people use 'I love you' as such a easily swapped blanket of convenience.
I have and continue to see 'so called symbols of love and affection' on the telly day after day and they leave me feeling very void.
I have seen parents pushing their own agendas, dreams, interests forward rather than stopping to listen/hear what their son/daughter thinks/feels/wants.
I have seen parents who let their children take the minor decisions in life, and yet have a imposing presence on their major decisions. Which parent can truly honestly say that I left my son/daughter to explore the world, the way he/she wanted and don't impose myself in any way?
Which parent has not cribbed about their child to a third person?
Which child has not cribbed about their parents to a third person?
Is there really such a thing as true love?
Today, I was leaving the music school after a customary struggle with trying to master that deceptively simple, but ultra complex violin. I noticed my wonderful teacher's aged parents sitting in a bench together, just in front of the school. My teacher's scottish. Imagine parents giving up everything they hold near and dear to them, living in a foreign country, waiting patiently day after day, while their daughter spends her time teaching me and the other students through-out the whole of the afternoon.
What could be a more perfect example of true love than this?
So I suppose, the romantic in me simply refuses to die.
True love does exist, but you need to be lucky as hell to come anywhere close to it, and you will know when you get there, for it will stand by you, even if the whole freaking world wants you to do something else and it will never *ever* hurt you...