Discriminatory Love

Whoever says love is blind, they must be the ones who are blind. Because in fact, most of times love always involves and requires what the eyes see and brain interprets. That being said, love isn't blind. Love depends on sight. Albeit it's different case for blind people, which there love might require hearing by ears instead of sight by eyes, but at least there love is not deaf either.

Because in the love matter of real world, everything should be first defined by interpretation in accordance with certain parameters; definition comes first, love later. So it's the moment when you've realized by eyes that eye-shape matters, that skin color matters, that face matters, that hair matters, that words in ID Card showing religion affiliation matters, that ethnicity matters, that everything our eyes see then processed in brain then interpreted based on our associated-memories matters. Love is not blind at all that way.

Love may have its own reason aside than sight and hearing. Perhaps the reason is yet unknown for why love happens. But to be together with the person we love most, it needs more than just love. Because people around will judge and we need their approval. We can love anyone without other people's approval, but we can't just be together forever with anyone without other people's approval. Because we are affiliated to them, we possibly need them, and our existence is defined by them. Harsh but undeniable.

It's the moment when after you've encountered the problem and then realized this, you wish you could have different eye-shape. You wish you could have different skin tone. You wish you could have different look on your face. You wish you could have different kind of hair. You wish you were raised under different religion within your family. You wish you were born from different ethnics. All according to the person you are in love with.

It is like how a gay guy falls for a straight guy, that he may wish either he were a girl or his crush were a gay. It is like how a straight girl falls for a gay guy, that she may wish either she were a guy or her crush were straight. It is like how ugly people want to be good-looking through plastic surgery, albeit it works on their face but then it will be masked-off on their children through somatic genes. It is like how a sorcerer attempts to revive the dead, all is but only an empty robot-functioned body without soul.

All of those wishes are against the odds and then reality leaves us in devastation time after time after time.

Maybe people are wrong when they say the phrase 'love is never wrong'. When we fall in love with the person we should never, doesn't it mean that the love there is wrong? When we fall in love with the person we can never have, isn't it the proof of love's wrongness? Because after all, love discriminates. No matter how firm your love is, if it doesn't meet the criteria, the love is futile. No matter how long you hold onto the reliance of love, if it doesn't meet the way determined by society, it's going to grow into regret.

So whom is it to blame for all of the unrequited love? Whom is it to blame for all of the love that doesn't stand a chance to bloom at all? Whom is it to blame for all of this insincerity? Whom is it to blame for the unfair and vicious fate bestowed upon us who suffer from the bitterness of falling in love with the person we're not supposed to?

So you end up lost on your way. You are now on the untold road that never drawn in any map. The compass of heart doesn't work anymore, it has been misguiding in fact. You seek for help, but nobody hears your prayers. Neither answer nor rescue even after years of waiting. Suddenly you're surprised by the fact that time has passed so much knowing now you are quite old compared to the first time the love haunted you. And now you wonder, whether you actually can escape its maze after all this time. You wonder whether you still can keep breathing anymore for the love you've believed in. Because although it's hard to accept, the life goes on anyway.

At some point, you can no longer be pretentious to hide from all of this. The nature will anyway call on the bird inside the cage to fly away albeit the history is like the phantom of the opera and the air gets thinner as you live on. And hence maybe one day, the caged soul will be freed.

As of now before the lamentation stops, we just love as much as we want, love as much as we need, and love as much we famish. Until someday we get tired, until someday we are exhausted, until someday we run out of expectation. Or perhaps, someday the real hope will really appear before our illusionary eyes and delusional sight. And finally the fairy tale of happily ever after can truly exist.