I don't believe in love

    Don't get me wrong--I believe in some forms of love. How can I not? I love my friends, I love GOD, I love my family, and sometimes I love people so much it physically hurts. I just don't believe in that kind of love. You know the deal-- love at first sight, I'll love you forever, etc.
    Romantic love bothers me. It seems like a very idealistic approach to life. It makes sense, after all, who wouldn't want to believe that there is someone out there for everyone, that there is a certain special someone whom you are destined to be with? The view, at first glance, offers hope. There's someone out there who will love you for who you are and your love will last forever and you'll be incomparably happy with each other. In the end, though, this view doesn't work for me.
    First of all, consider this: love at first sight. How is that even something people believe in? I'm sure you can't look at someone and immediately fall in love without being a little creepy. Anyone that's seen Enchanted knows how foolish and weak the idea of love after a few seconds of knowing someone can be. It simply doesn't hold ground. How can you love someone without knowing them?
    But I won't ride that tangent too far. Not many people buy the idea of love at first sight, anyway. What really bothers me is the unrealistic idea of that one person you're destined to be with, i.e. "The One." Just now on TV, a commercial played about this Christian dating web site, and the announcer stated that the website could help you find "GOD's match for you." This implies that there is a specific person out there, one specific person, whom fate has tied you to, and that regardless of your walks in life, one day you will meet and your lives will be irrevocably tied together. Forever. One person. Take a moment to drink that in.
    Now my questions. The other day I was considering the fact, and I was thinking of people who are depressed, people who kill themselves. And I thought--let's say I have this one person who I am supposed to be with, and I'm his 'the one.' What happens if one day I off myself? Is he doomed to loneliness? Did his loss of 'The One' ruin his chances forever? And what if my 'One' makes awful choices, messes up his life, am I still supposed to be with him? I asked a friend of mine this and he said: "he'd find someone else." Which is ridiculous. That would imply that you have two 'the One's and that's simply not possible under this framework. The same applies to widows and widowers.
    What about single people--are their lives somehow lacking, missing that one person? Or did fate simply not grace them with the privilege of having a predestined mate? I know people who stayed single their entire lives, know they're not supposed to marry someone, but they're not lacking. They're not missing their so-called 'other half.' They're very happy, well-rounded individuals, which just goes to show that you really don't need someone else's romantic love to be complete.
    People change. That's one thing my life has taught me. It's the simplest thing in the world to imagine yourself in love with someone, to let yourself dream. That doesn't mean it's true. I remember there used to be several people in my life that I couldn't imagine myself living without, and the truth is I don't even talk to these people anymore. That, however, is not the point. The point is that either my love wasn't strong enough to survive that long or it's simply gone. Now, I know for a fact that my love was real and it was intense, so that leaves only the latter option. My love for them is gone. I don't mean my generic "I love Humanity" love; I mean my specific, personal love for them, my friends. I accept it as a fact that it's just not there, but in a way it bothers me, that love, the most powerful force on earth, could change without my noticing.
    Well, that my specific love could change, and other people's specific love. Maybe that's why the idea of a forever, 'til death do us part love bothers me so much. Because in my experience, nothing stays the same. The way we see love leaves a lot of room for disappointment. It seems to me that we're left with the impression that if we just find that special someone, we'll be happy. Life isn't all hearts and flowers, though, and we can't just set aside our other 'less-important' goals in favor of the so-called ultimate happiness. The idea of true love leaves us expecting too much, setting our standards unrealistically high. Maybe that's why the divorce rates are so high--once one realizes that the original romantic love-delusion is wearing off and the person one loves isn't as perfect and forever as one thought, one is left with the idea that love, in general, has failed. So what other option does that leave one but divorce? There's nothing as disappointing as realizing that forever is just an illusion. The higher our hopes are, the harder the fall is.
    We shouldn't live our lives hanging on the promise of 'someday.' I've long believed that there are two different kinds of love: generic and specific. Specific love, however platonic, can still be strong and certainly beautiful, however long it lasts. I'm content with this, with going on loving people with all my heart, disregarding romance, at least until I can find someone that I'm willing to make the sacrifice for, to constantly change for the better of our relationship, in order that our love be constantly transformed.

obscure post

What should I write about?

The lights are reflecting off the screen in a way that makes my whole life look surreal. A white screen with blurry yellow lights greets me. It's blank. No matter how hard I try I cannot think of words to fill it with. My view of the world is a conglomerate of verbs and adjectives and nouns, but none of them seem to fit. There's something in my mind that demands perfection, but I can't provide it. In the living room there's another world-—of football and television and getting excited about men in tights running an oddly shaped brown ball across a field of unnatural grass. Somehow I've managed to escape that. Now I'm trapped in a different sort of prison—one of words, all longing to escape, to find their place on this impossibly blank white and yellow-lit screen. I find myself chained with the knowledge that I simply cannot do them justice, no matter how hard I try. Instead, they will be forced to join the infinite expanse of Lost Words, words that I was too weak to make a place for. They deserve better than me.