Why do we open ourselves to love over and over again one heart- break after another? Isn’t trying something again and again in the same way, expecting different results, a sign of dementia? I suppose the more romantic of our race would spout some fallacy on the lines of- “but love is crazy!” Codswallop.
I recently came across a movie clip where the protagonist emphasizes on the point that in our over communicated society, we are slowly being brainwashed. We brain wash ourselves into believing that the person we are meant to be with is somehow supposed to be perfect, provided we found someone to measure up to our impossible standards. And if, low and behold, we were to find such a person, they would inevitably irritate us to no end- because we are not perfect to handle “all that”.
We even brainwash ourselves into believing that people in love have to be attached at the hip. Now ladies (and all you over possessive gents), this can hardly be comfortable for the other person in the relationship. Eventually, they will feel smothered and they will want out. Unless he’s the sort of person who has never been single more than a few months of his life. In such a case I’d like to tell you ladies- get your head on straight! That boy doesn’t even know himself; don’t expect him to know you! All the traits you see in him have been ripped off of someone he has previously damaged.
On a different note, have you ever watched those old black and white movies? Yes, you know, the ones where Prince Charming is all about saving the Damsel in Distress? It did exist at some point. I kid you not! In the ages past when lovers could only communicate through the blessing of letters and telegram, men and women often found themselves expressing their emotions more profoundly than they do today. “Language was made for one reason, boys- to seduce women”, said Robin Williams in his infinite wisdom. After all, “baby you look hot”, can hardly count as poetry.
However, the taste for this hellish game of heartbreak seems to have been acquired over a period of time. Our innate fondness for those eternal love stories, stories of unfulfilled longing, seems to have trickled down to our subconscious. We are obsessed with idea of romance when we don’t even know what a romantic evening with a loved one would entail. Now lets make it abundantly clear that this is not to be confused with lust. Love is beyond physical relationships right? Wasn’t it how it used to be in those black and white movies? But maybe, in our zeal to make our life technicolor, we’ve lost the essence of it. Perhaps the beauty of love has been lost in transition.