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Monday, 15 August 2011

I love you, I love you not

Young love is reminiscent of being in primary school to me. It transports me back to a time when the fate of your relationship was decided by a flower. The power of a flower becomes so clear when you’re on the playground. The boy or girl you like is sitting with the most pensive look on their face as they pluck the petals of a daisy while the recite. He loves me...he loves me not.

In high school self sufficiency was drilled into our minds. Being subjected to the petal like fragility of emotions in relationships became an absurd idea.  We were taught we need no man. We need not have to resort to extremes to have insight into someone else’s emotions. Because anyone we chose to be with would want us to since we were exceptional.

However, when I came to university I seemed to suffer from a mental digression. A sort of amnesia that I hadn’t realised had occurred until over a year into my studies. It would once again transfer me back to the playground. I acquired a desire to have someone there. The number of times I listened to Single ladies or any other female empowerment song ironically exacerbated that longing.


University seems to create the illusion of freedom and maturity; yet our lives here are funded by someone else and we’re still heavily reliant on other people. We begin to believe that we can handle the depth of love and the days on the playground are far behind us.  We jump into relationships whole heartedly. Everyone else seems to be able to handle it, so we think “why not me too?”  We unknowingly give up parts of our soul that we are unaware are even up for grabs; until you realise that they are gone.

Although the intensity of the love is unlike anything you may have experienced. It is still subject to the ever changing emotions and experiences that our youth makes us vulnerable too. At our age every emotion seems to be heightened.  There’s a strength yet brittleness within us.  One day we’ll realise that it may not have been love, but something a lot like it or something that didn’t resemble it at all.  We just didn’t have all the components within us to tell the difference.

Years pass since you’ve left primary school yet you still find yourself teleported to the playground. You’re back to being that young child seeking some solace in a daisy and some insight from a flower; because you genuinely don’t know or refuse to accept the reality. While each petal you pluck conveys the delicateness and frailness of young love. As you recite... He loves me...he loves me not.

3 comments:

  1. I rememember those days with the flowers, they way one would do it over and over until we got the final answer we hoped for..the funny thing is even as adults we only stop when we hear wat we want..there is that voice in u saying no he or she isn’t right, but instead we follow the one we want to hear. Are kids and adults any different. To me the whole concept of love and what love is has been on my mind. Is love real??? ..we so often find ourselves hurt by the ones we thought loved us..why does love hurt..why do we find the need to be loved.. why is that we are on this constant search in life, a search that starts in the playground when we are just 7 years old, a search that continues until that last breath..why do we want to be loved..

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  2. so true!! i dont think we ever really leave the playground when it comes to the ideas of love. GREAT POST!

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  3. Mimi I love your question...
    why do we need to be loved?

    Very great post, but what should we now use to determine if he loves me or he loves me not?

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