Although least qualified, allow me to delve into the world of romantic love. Never having experienced it myself, I wonder and question its very essence. For years now, I’ve denied myself, and shun away from every attempt that has come my direction. Never having built up the nerve, I’ve refused to allow myself to be immersed in an emotion so intense and powerful. Have I been blinded by the stubbornness of youth?

In a fleeting moment’s revelation, all it takes is a whisper of temptation to trap oneself in an endless web of emotions that we call love. So appealing and deceiving are the promises of serenity, and deliverance from a chaotic world, that I too have often caught myself traveling that road. Swayed by the illusions of a blissful existence, oblivious to the frailties of the human mind that so often lead to betrayal.

Is it fear of rejection, lack of trust? Why so reluctant?

It is too daunting to think that if I were to yield to love, I would have to give up the very soul of my existence, my independence. Years of self-discovery have gone into crafting my world, slowly liberating myself of outside influences, both physically and mentally. To surrender, compromise, and sacrifice all is too precious; I wouldn’t know where to begin. I can’t watch it all crumble into a mesh of disorder, only to find myself in a pool of regrets of lost identity. I lack the courage to let anyone seep in, at the risk of losing myself.

Am I self-absorbed? Or is it cowardly justification? Perhaps both.

A dispassionate observer, eventually, weakened by the voids that can no longer be ignored, I will come seeking love. Reason will subside to give way to impulse, and will give way to the powers of seduction. A glimpse of the physical pleasures to appeal to the human desires, and a taste of an exalted state of happiness, and I too will be dancing my way into addiction.

I settle now to keep my self at a distance, unable to resolve my questions. I’m trapped in the realm of uncertainty with no rescue in sight, envious of those who have come to love. Is it better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all?