Obligatory Journal Post- The Return: Limerence is a funny thing.

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

-Neil Gaiman.

Earlier today, I was clumsily browsing tumblr, and my dashboard was mostly full of posts about love, and heartbreak; the whole shebang.
One thing led to another, and I clicked the 'Unrequited Love' tag.

Wow. Just, wow. I have no words.

There were thousands and thousands of posts, and all of them from different people, pining away for somebody they could never have.

It's heartbreaking, the thought that such a massive part of the general population is always in the throes of a love so... unrequited. The survey people should conduct a worldwide study to give us an estimate of the number of hearts being broken per day. I'm pretty sure the number would be staggeringly huge.
In fact, there's even a neat sounding word for the feeling:
"Limerence: an involuntary state of mind which results from a romantic attraction to another person combined with an overwhelming, obsessive need to have one's feelings reciprocated."

Everyone's well-acquainted with limerence, there's no denying it. When you fall head over heels for someone, their every aspect seems to complement yours in one way or another. You think you both are a perfect fit for each other. A match made in heaven, and all that. You are the sambar to his idly vada, you are the orange tic tacs to her Mollika, that sort of thing.
I, for one, cannot imagine my life without orange tic tacs, or idly vada without sambar. It just DOES NOT SEEM RIGHT.
Therefore, one can imagine how painful it is to watch your 'perfect fit' happy with somebody else, apart from yourself. Pow, right in the feelings, if you ask me.

I suddenly found myself feeling horrible for all those people posting on there. Thousands of people I've never known, and never will. You guys, my heart goes out to all of you.
And it's not like I'm pining away for lost love or anything myself, either.

Gah. This empathy shit is killing me.

'tis a matter of the heart.

"You don't contain even an ounce of romance in you."

Romance. An oft-used word.
What does it mean? How is one :romantic:?
Does getting flowers and going on dates mean being romantic?
Does one have to dress up and look all pretty in order to be loved?

Maybe that's the case. And I'm okay with it.
I don't mind flowers.
Or dressing up for dates.
Or kisses.
Or any other romantic cliche out there.

I do watch romantic movies.
I teared up a little when I finished reading 'Love Story'.
To call me unromantic is kind of harsh, non?

Don't get me wrong; I'm open to the idea of romance.
But the funny thing about all this is:

It just isn't me.

I don't really like flowers. They wilt and rot.
Kissing? Forget about it. I find the idea of holding hands in public too awkward.
And I cannot get myself all dolled up and pretty for a guy.
Makeup is sticky and weird, and threading one's eyebrows is some ancient Chinese method of torture. I'm certain of it.

I'm me.
Strange, unromantic me.
Armed with a sharp tongue and sarcasm.
Full of opinions that I will defend with my life.

But does that mean I've never thought about what it feels like to be loved?
Love. That which goes beyond romance, and everything else.
I have wondered what finding love would be like.
What it would mean to have someone to treasure. Someone who thought of me as...precious. Significant.
And if I could find such a person by being myself.

Myself?
My weird, childish, unromantic self.

I believe in a love that encompasses any kind of romance.

I believe in a love so strong, it sticks around long after the romance is dead.
If I ever do fall in love, it certainly won't be short term.

This is me.
Weird, unromantic, I'll agree.

But capable of that crazy feeling called love.

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Note: The quote is something someone remarked about me, in the past week. I'm sure they didn't mean any harm, but that line really rustled my jimmies, man. So I got thinking, and stuff.

I never thought I was capable of writing such mushy stuff. Time to crawl under my rock and die of embarrassment.

#8.31:Of love and other hormonal disorders.

MUST. WRITE.
If I have to keep another thought to myself, I might have an aneurysm.

A few days ago, I was up till around 2am again; listening to Radiohead, pondering. My circadian rhythm's shifted a bit, what with the last-minute cramming for exams and other things. I don't sleep much anymore.
But when I'm not sleeping, I'm thinking. So that's alright, I think.

And then I had this thought:
"Love is like a pimple."


Before you think, "Oh, moll is tripping balls yet again," let me tell you the whole story behind the thought:

Pimples have been on my mind a lot recently.
And on my forehead.
That's not to say they weren't there before; let's just say I look like I'm spouting a pair of horns now.
Pacific Ring of Fire? Please, I've got the Pacific Ring of Sebum on my forehead.
[Note to self: I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS ADSFGFHJK]

That, and Thom Yorke's voice led me to make the connection.

So, how then, is love like a pimple?

1. It happens when you least expect it to, and there's nothing you can do about it.
2. Love is hormonal, to a large extent. So are pimples.
3. If you mess around with either of the two, they leave nasty scars.
4. One fine day, when you've finally learnt to accept that you're in love, or that you have a giant pimple on your face, it will disappear. Just like that. Poof.

You can't deny the truth in that.

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Speaking of love, I watched this on YouTube a while ago.

I was crying and grinning like an idiot at the same time. I shed big, fat tears at this point in the game too, and this brought back all of those emotions.

It's so perfect. ;w;

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Off out.