We Don’t Love In One Day And We Don’t Forget In Two
“We don’t love in one day and we don’t forget in two”, but that phrase faded from my mind when I saw you the first time. When our eyes met and you gave me her first smile. When my heart started to beat faster and faster, guided by every step you took towards me. And so, after a few minutes, I fell in love with you.
I fell in love with every detail of your skin, your scent and what I imagined to be the way you were. I imagined you without knowing you and in my imagination, you were perfect. But this perfection was only in my head, reality, as wise as it was cruel, taught me that everything we imagine or dream does not happen.
Now I know that in terms of love, you can only love who you really know. Everything else is just tales and expectations that no one has to fulfill. This is why to love is to know yourself and to forget, it is to leave a piece of yourself that you have shared and built with someone.
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-Pablo Neruda-
The idealization of the other is the poison of love
Now I hope not to be that person who forgets that the idealization of the other is the poison of the other. A venom which sequesters the reason and makes you see in the other what goes on in your imagination. This means that, no matter what, you will always see in the other person what you want to see, and not the reality. The one who, sooner or later, makes whims to impose himself.
Even though in most of the movies that I watch the characters have a look of undying love, although in many novels love comes in the blink of an eye, it doesn’t happen in real life. Or if, it happens, but the story continues and the spell breaks or mutates, becoming even stronger or on the contrary absent. The latter case leads to the asphyxiation of the relationship.
Falling in love is a process of knowing each other, a process which, to be real, takes time. Neither much nor little, his own time. This is why I hope to be that person who does not forget that reality is more complex than fiction and that tales are only tales. That writing them down is easy when the pen is not your blood, when what looms on the horizon are not your doubts or your hopes.
And even though my love story was nothing more than a tale rather than a reality, that doesn’t imply that confronting me with reality makes me feel fictional pain. Feelings are never the product of the imagination and what I felt was real, even though it was based on a house of cards. And it really hurts.
“It’s hard to love a prince charming when he only appears in your dreams. Waking up completely is a nightmare because you don’t forget what you dreamed of, but you are broken by the expectations you have placed in someone who never existed. ”
The one who forgets what he loves without pain does not know what love is
Even if I am told “one lost, ten found”, I can only answer that the one who forgets what he loves without pain does not know what love is. Because love doesn’t hurt, it’s forgetting what you loved and what didn’t work that really marks.
This is the life you imagined with this prince charming who turned out to be a toad, the one you lose when you see what really happens. This is why you are not only the one who forgets, you are the one who rebuilds his / her future when you miss what you wanted, when you imagined something that you never had but that you regret anyway.
So, you start from scratch but much wiser. Tales are stories, stories for childhood. When you grow up, you stop seeing princes or toads who complete or spoil you. When you grow up, you miss no one because you are the only one, you showcase yourself, you love yourself and you no longer feel like a stranger because nothing completes you, nothing misses you. You know what you are worth and you are no longer the one who forgets or who imagines a life without tales, but the one who loves himself.
You are the one who rebuilds his / her future when you miss what you wanted, when you imagine something that you never had but that you regret anyway.
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