To be in love, with love.

Like all my other musings, this one also presents itself in a protective four walled environment while a ‘Heat Transfer’ book lays open in front of me seducing me with its complex diagrams and tedious calculations. Sadly, my mind wishes to wander into the crevices of love. That’s the mood of the day.

After a lot of reflection, followed by an analysis, I realise how infatuated I’ve been with the idea of love. I am in love with love. I have been in love with love almost my entire life.

It starts from a little girl reading bedtime stories- the kiss of love breaks the princess’ slumber, love at first sight. Ah, Disney… Ruined my idea of love and set an unattainable benchmark for my love life!

As a child, I thought love was easy and accessible. Boy meets girl, the frequencies match, they fall in love and a magical kiss later, they live happily ever after. Sounds fun, right?
Then, there comes the awkward adolescent phase where every guy is cute (except the ones who are interested in me) and being in ‘love’ is the only thing that matters.

Now I realize, there is so much more to it. It’s more than boy meets girl and sparks flying. The frequencies, often,  do not match and they’re both different people. It’s less of they live happily ever after and more of they’re still together after a zillion fights. It’s less of we’re perfect and more of we’re perfect FOR each other. It’s less of passion fuelled kisses but more of comfortable pyjama donned snuggles.

Maybe, just maybe, that is what love is… Where you know you’re different but you’d still learn their ways as they learn yours.

And this is exactly why, I’m still in love with love.


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