Baskadia

I have been looking for love, and all along, it has always been there, but I refused to see it.

            I have been looking for love since time immemorial. I thought I found it in my friends, my colleagues, or my family.

            I thought I found love in people I met on different social media platforms. We talked and laughed all night until the sun smiled at us. I thought I found love when they understood my pain, share memories with me, and struggled life with me. I thought I found love until I didn’t.

            Love always had its way to find me and I have known it all along. But I turned a blind eye. I chose to ignore it when it didn’t adhere to my liking. When it came in my way, I didn’t bother to look at it.

            I always tell myself that love conquers all, but what does it conquer? What in the context of “All” does love conquer? Does love conquer fear when one was afraid to fall for another with no assurance? Does love conquer anxiety when one was confused with mixed signals? Does love conquer misery when one became hopeless for life? How far would love conquer?

            When I was younger, I did not understand love as it was not evident in my home. But how would someone know love? How does love be shown? Does love pity? Does it punish? Does it humiliate? Does it invalidate? Or does it make people believe they are loved when they are truly not?

            When I was younger, I thought love was all amazing things. That it was a happy pill everyone takes in the morning and at night when they sleep. I thought love was full of joy that people smile all day and bring forth joy to everyone. I thought love was endearing that parents caressed their children when they fell and comforted them when they are hurt. But love was all but sad. No one ever takes that pill. No one is full of joy but exhaustion. No one comforts others when they are hurt. Love is all but sad and selfish.

            When I was younger, I was told that love was a product of emotions. Despite the worries and anxieties, one feels all throughout the day, love always prevails at the end of it. Because they said, love is suffering and when it hurts, it demands to be felt. It is just wrong. If it is love, I do not want to take part of it.

            Growing up I have been thinking about love. I have seen and heard people announcing that they loved each other. That they valued one another. That they felt comfortable with each other. I wonder. If love is about value and comfort, why do people fall out of love? Was the comfort not enough? Were they not valued enough? If so, I thought love is suffering. Clearly, love is suffering until one is used to it.

            Until now, I am still thinking and looking for love. I know love is always there, I know it exists. I know it has been following me. I know that love is just waiting for me to turn my head to it. But I do not know. Am I not ready for it? Or am I feeling love all along that I tend to have overlooked it?

            I am always on the lookout for love but I choose not to see it. Or how should I know and see love if love was always there, but I was not?