Prologue
It took me a long time to realize that love is not a fairy-tale-like emotion you read about in books or see on the screen of your TV. In reality, love is a cry for help.
A silent cry for help. Love is pleading for someone to hear your silent cries, to see the emptiness in your eyes that reflect the numbness you feel inside and hoping they'd kiss you so deeply and passionately that it erases all the traces of pain and heartbreak you've ever experienced.
Love is hoping someone sees right through you and the act you put up every single day. It's hoping they'd corner you in a street after a long day at work and put their hand on yours, gazing into your eyes and telling you that you don't have to do everything on your own and that you can count on them for support.
That they'll make you coffee in the morning when you're late to work and looking everywhere for your keys and that they'll pick you up when it's raining and the subway is down. Love is when someone gives you permission so you can relax in their arms, close your eyes and feel safe for a moment before you go back to a reality that will crush you.
Throughout my life, I've had my heart broken here and there, and somehow every time I come out more desperate to experience true love.
It's as if I'm on a never-ending quest to prove myself that the love I've experienced in my fantasies can be found in real life, even if it feels impossible right now.
I'm sure there is a price to be paid for the love I want to experience, and I know that I can be too extreme especially when it comes to love, but I don't really care about the price I have to pay to experience the kind of love I've always dreamed of.
Even if it costs me my life, I'm still willing to pay the price.
That's how crazy I am about finding love.
