Love Turned Cynic

Have we become too cynical for our own good?

Recall a time when you had fallen in love and not questioned his/her motives for being in love with you.

Recall a time when you didn’t intentionally dramatise a mistake to seek his/her attention.

Recall a time when the relationship was going so well, you purposely messed it up because you thought this was almost too good to be true and you didn’t deserve him/her.

Recall a time when being in love means being honest and not being wary.

Recall a time when you didn’t hold back your I love you.

Recall a time when you didn’t first worry about sounding needy or submissive before you say it.

Remember the time when there was no mind games.

I remember my first love. I remember our honest hopes about the future. I remember him holding out his hand to me in front of his friends. I remember his handwritten letters. I remember the flowers that bloomed for ten days but now brown and brittle in my room.

I remember saying I love you without hesitation.

I remember him saying I love you too in tears.

I remember his tears.

But the first love that was promised to be forever was taken away from me.

By distance.

And I was so hurt I cried for weeks.

Too young to comprehend that this was the only the beginning of the chase for love.

Too fragile to believe that there could be anyone else better for me besides my first love.

And although I had moved on, my heart had carved itself a wall of stone.

To the point…

Where the next one that came along and liked me, I approached him with caution.

Where the next one that came along and said he loves me, I doubt his feelings.

Where the next one that came along and confessed his hopes for us, I questioned his motives.

Where the next one that came along and had faith in our future, I was determined to find at least one flaw in our relationship.

Where the next one that came along and there was no arguments, I concluded that there was no passion and excitement in this relationship.

Where the next one that came along and he was so kind to my needs and demands, I believed I didn’t deserve his love.

Where the next one that came along and held my hand in public, I was actually shocked instead of being delighted.

Where the next one that came along and brought me to meet his parents, I thought he was moving too fast.

Where the next one that came along and admit he would love me eternally, I declared him naive.

Have I become too careful? Have I lost faith in love itself? Have I become too cynical for my own good?

Am I just afraid to be hurt again?

Actually, are WE all just afraid to be hurt again?

If that is the case, then why do we keep falling in love with the bad boys over and over again?

If that isn’t hypocrisy, I don’t know what is.

I guess with the bad boys, at least you can predict what’s coming.

There will surely be arguments. There might be disloyalties. There will eventually be a breakup. And a reunion. Then another breakup.

If you should choose it, another reunion maybe?

But is it worth it?

If we choose not to hurt ourselves in the beginning, why do we continue to let ourselves be vulnerable to such predicaments?

Then wouldn’t our cynicism be pointless right from the beginning?

I guess that is why we remember our first love so fondly.