In the sea of people around me, I sit here pondering the eternal question, “why the F am I still alone?” And yet, as I look around, I can’t help but wonder if they’re happy too? Or are they just riding the waves of life praying that it wouldn’t be as hard. Are they pretending to be content on the one person sitting beside them? Every smile, every laughter, every kiss, every look in their eyes tell me that they are. And yet, I still consider them lucky—well, luckier than me at least.
Most people depend not on food, water, oxygen, or even faith to survive but on love. What if you shape your life around it? When you mold your stories to understand its complexities. When you surround yourself to depend on it. When you succumb to its immense power. When nothing but love gives you the energy and will to keep moving on life’s difficulties. What happens when you lose it? Love is much like dying. Only difference is dying has an end, while losing love can seemingly go on forever.
People chose to be alone because it’s easier. It’s easier to be alone than to depend on someone, build your life with someone, care and love someone only to wake up one morning and realize, as hard it was for you to find and hold on to it (love), it is gone. But I’d rather much be in love than be alone. I’d rather have the quarrels, the shouting, the paranoia, the endless worrying and the endless caring, unbelievable moments of sweetness, the feeling of someone needing and wanting you more than you could imagine. I would rather have that than walk into an empty house, travel on countries, walk stretches of beaches, and sit on a packed café or bar amidst families, lovers, and friends alone. I’d rather make love with a partner than have meaningless sex with a stranger.
And yes it may be easier to be alone…
But you’d be crazy to want it.
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