Paradox of Love

I guess love functions in ways that are often ungraspable, unfathomable.

You can begin liking someone at the start, only to find yourself assuming the role of a filler character in his or her story. So you let yourself forget about those intense feelings and compartmentalise them into a tiny glass bottle that is thrown into the river of your emotions, hoping that the pressures of everyday life will crush it into forgettable fragments.

Without the sweetened mists clouding your consciousness, you soon become good friends with him or her. This makes quite a nice quasi-fairytale ending in my opinion, but I guess life prefers to include twists in the overarching plot.

In time, you start to realise that this precious friendship seem to be veering off towards a different direction when he or she starts to behave differently in your company. You secretly wonder if the roles have been reversed, and you consider if it is possible to reignite the extinguished spark.

Yet, it seems like the grains of time have completely eroded past sentiments. You have become so used to this friendship that there doesn't seem to be room for romance. The lenses through which you view him or her have been coloured by the comfortable and friendly memories spent together, and you realise that you are happier being friends.

Hence, you let him or her know in gentle ways that while the role he or her plays in the story of your life is an important one, it is not the pivotal one on which your world revolves around. Because that role has already been reserved for someone else.

And thus concludes the paradox of love. It is something we would like to believe exists only in the realms of fiction and theatre.

But it happens in reality as well.