Alone again, naturally.

One of my love told me, ¨Being in love, in a relationship, it´s just a different reality; not necessarily a better reality (compared to being alone), but just a different one.¨ I didn't agree. I still don't.

Another one told me, ¨You should only be with someone, if being in love with that person makes you happier than when you are alone.¨ Words I agreed more.

If I followed the words of the former, I would be easily satisfied. Because the expectations from a loving relationship would be not much different from a life alone.

Unfortunately, my vision of love is closer to the latter. Hence, I'm more demanding in love. I didn't need someone to make me happy, being alone is satisfying enough for me. But falling in love made me happier; something I cannot control; Her happiness became more important than mine. As long as we were the reason for each others' happiness, love continues.

Love, drove me to satisfy the other. Naturally; passionately; unrelenting; without holding back; made her happiness more important than mine. Her priorities higher than mine.

But somehow or rather, love eventually fails. Blameless, we move on with our own lives. In this sense, love becomes like just another part of reality that is no different from the reality of being alone.

But I wonder; How could an emotion so powerful, so compelling, be at the same time so fragile?

Promises we make in business, in school, contracts we sign; we are made to uphold them. Even though they are promises with not much emotions attached.

But promises made in love, with such a powerful emotion driving them on, they are often fragile promises; easily forgotten, disappearing as love dies.

As no one is more responsible than the other when love arises, no one is more to be blamed when it dies; it is what it is.

Instead of remaining bitter and assign blame to the other when love dies, it is better to hold on to the good things that happened between each other in the name of love, and continue to let oneself evolve; continue to let good things happen in the name of love.

My question that I asked myself, ¨Is love like a jug of water? Everytime you love, a little gets poured out until one day it might be empty?¨ That's been answered with age; with the latest episode.

Love is fragile, no doubt. But the lover cannot be, he must continue to be strong; yet without getting cynical, without letting love be emptied like an overused jug.

Everytime one loves, it must be full of the tenderness like his first time, with the confidence, belief, and intensity he had for his first love; but with the maturity, experience and control accumulated with age and experience.

Another said to me, ¨You run headlong into things in a brave but silly way; getting hurt sometimes.¨ I told her, ¨Getting hurt is part of growing up. I do not wish to get hurt, but I do embrace it as much as I indulge in the happy things in life.¨

The fragility of love must be cared for and tended by someone strong who is not afraid of being hurt. Because like a beautiful rose full of thorns, the sweetness of love comes with bitterness of the disappointments it brings. To deny oneself of love because of the fear of getting hurt is not the way I want to live.

What's more, it's the hurt and disappointments in life that teaches us the most.