My Darling

Forbidden Unrequited

Part I
Philophobia

     When they speak of great love stories, they paint them in heavenly light. Of gallant knights in shining armour, risking their lives to fight dragons and conquer kingdoms for the hand of a fair maiden or damsel in distress. They tell of grand adventures to the far corners of the earth and over the edges of the world. Love stories written in forms of poems and love letters. Promises told between lovers for the future to read behind glass and along the lines of sentences in the palm of your hand.

     Oh, how free and wild love seems! To little girls, it's the golden dream, finding your soulmate that fit their list of requirements in a husband. Dreaming of growing older to find such sweet adoration and warm gentleness. The world sells love like candy in a gum ball machine. Pick your favourite flavor and win a prize. If only it was really like that.

     Perhaps that is how the other side of life is. All glitter and gold, innocence protected and cherished for the gift it is. Perhaps I envy that life. If only I had the luxury to linger in childhood but not once would I change my experience for another. Learning the tricks of the trade in youth taught skills later needed in life. Necessary for a world filled with anger and hurt. Well, at least in the low ranks of the class tier. Low class and proud.

     Seen how they sell love in the pages of books and on television screens. But in action, looks are deceiving. Instead, kisses were given in bruises black and blue. Hugs traded for chains of addiction to abuse. Love given out in the forms of flowers and jewelry, apologies and promises to do better. Falling for it every time, giving in because it's not really his fault, she made him upset. If she had just stayed in her place, everything would've been fine. Strength that was admired became weak and brittle.

     Seeing it up close and personal, instilling philophobia inside my heart. Creating a pessimist out of me. Closing off that part of the brains emotions, cutting it out of the heart, a wall of ice encased around my soul. Unfeeling and unwilling to fall into loves hands. Rejecting anyone who offered it, secretly yearning but in vain. No use in trusting false advertisement.

     It wasn't so bad at first. Losing that side of your heart hadn't shown any signs of being problematic, instead it allowed freedom to play the game better. Becoming the toxic person, once an image loathed beyond words. But as they say, you'll eventually become the one you hate the most. They were right so far. Filling the void with commitment thoughtlessly given and abandoned on a whim.

     Manipulation became the highlight of these flings. Empty words passed on to pique their interest and then, once obsession settled on, hit them with a text message stating the clear cut ends of this fun interlude. Dalliances are amusing when kept in check, alluding to a hard crash into reality that love is fake. The fear of abandonment causing self sabotaging moments to push those who fight harder to stay, lashing out with their insecurities to hurt and hate. It was the life worthy of someone damned like myself.

     That's what I thought, for a long time. Giving up hope that it wasn't all a gimmick, trusting no one's intentions in the slightest. A fantasy told to ease the burdens of adulthood. Years passed by, wandering the land further and farther away from home. Daring to search in areas unknown to my current homeland. Catching glimpses of something that could be, not quite it however fleeting. Until I met her.

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Part II
Hanahaki Disease

     Meeting her at random was, cosmic. Some romantics would say it was fate or destiny. Mayhap it was but the theory that events happening were predestined was a hard one to believe in again. That some things that might seem like a coincidence were for a reason. As it were, I felt the click of a bond forming. A primal thing of nature, just sensing another's aura matching your own.