I had the misfortune of stopping by the “Love Letters” category on this blog yesterday. one fledging letter, written to a girl that I was pretty sure, I had fallen for last year. It didn’t work out of course, but, that was there, and it is hazy and scary and everything all at once. Maybe, that is why I do not write love letters, because I am always vague, and barely, if ever, do I see a person rather than seeing a celestial entity before me, something which encompasses everything for me, philosophy to poetry to science.
I am scared about it really. That is the heart of the matter which beats out in perfect unison to everything. I am scared that some times I would overreach myself and end up hurting someone who is close to me, and some days I am afraid that I will end up hurting someone who is near to me.
Moreover, it is the nature of love for me. The fact that I always see it as a way to deal with my own demons. My love for writing an affront to my demon that is self harming, my love for a person dealing with my demon of loneliness. It gets to me, love is not a problem solver, and you do not end up feeling better just after falling in love. One of the weirdest things in this belief that somehow loving will cure us of our depressions. It doesn’t.
The love letters remain as a reminder of that want, of wanting to solve all our problems in one single way. To solve everything in the world with a person.
No person matches up to that. Love doesn’t do that.
So, yes, though I planned a proposal this valentines, I am giving it up. I am depressed now, I crashed four-five times in two weeks and I habe no way to get out of that. So, yes, I am giving up. I am sorry that I have to…