Love is a Disease
Love -- so simple yet so complicated.
Just so you don’t get confused or anything, I’m talking about romantic love -- the love between a man and a woman. The kind of love which brave knights and princes have fought and died to find, and the kind which ladies and princesses have waited for all their life.
Love, I tell you, is a disease; one which people have no known cure and vaccine for. Once love is in the picture, people lose the use of their full logical functions and they become incorrigible.
Love makes people do the craziest things. One minute they’re so ecstatic and happy that they’re like a deranged monkey on crack, or a rabid dog on meth. A second later, they’re weeping and moping around like all hope in the world is lost.
Oh, but what do I know about love? I’m just but an old dog in this world, waiting for death to take me.
There is one kind of love I do happen to know deeply though. In fact, I am a witness to a certain love that has been deeply-rooted for years and yet up until now remains solely dormant, ultimately unrequited; a love that has yet to see its happy ending.
I’m very certain that there is a kind of love that is unrecognizable at first, a kind of love that people often mistake for something else, like simple kinship or comfortable closeness. Either that or some people are just plain, thickly dense to ever see it clearly as it is -- as love.
So then, where should I begin such tale of love? Hmmm…
Ah, well, I suppose I could start by telling you about a girl named May. Her name didn’t turn out to be April, June, July, August, or any other month of the year for that matter. It’s May. And that is ‘May’ with a ‘Y’, not an ‘E’. She wasn’t born in the month of May if you’re curious. Her parents weren’t much on the creative side, so they thought that a short, three-lettered name would suffice for their premature baby girl.
How do I know this, you ask? Well, I was there when she was brought home from the hospital. I was very young then and so was she. We got along together and became the best of friends. You could say that I was her confidante so I knew all her secrets. I even know her better than her own parents.
Anyhow, May was something of an oddball when she was still growing up. She wasn’t pretty, or ugly. She was pretty much mediocre. She had a plain and completely forgettable face. The only thing notable about her were her eyes -- her deep cobalt eyes courtesy of her Caucasian father. Then again, her eyes were mostly hidden by her dark, thick-rimmed glasses, so they remained unseen and easily dismissed.
Although she inherited her mother’s beautifully straight locks, May had thin gangly limbs and very poor posture. And those glasses, they didn’t help in her overall appearance at all. In fact, May was the perfect personification of a geek, and her love for books made sure that she acted exactly like one.
Growing up, May was such a clumsy late-bloomer. When every other girl has been wearing bra and strutting out their maturing chests, she had been stuffing hers with rolled up socks so as not to be left behind. When every other girl has had a date or two, she had been busy escaping reality to witness the adventures of heroes and heroines in thick, paperback, pocket books.
When every other girl has experienced making out with their boyfriends within the dim confines of the theater, May had been getting to know Hamlet and Macbeth by William Shakespeare. When every other girl bragged about love, relationships and romance, May would mentally sulk and secretly say, ‘That kind of love would never compare to the story of love and woe shared by Juliet and her Romeo.’
When every other girl spent their nights in clubs and bars getting drunk and having sex, May spent her nights sleepless, trying to steady her heart upon reading the witty banter, and blooming romance between Mr. Darcy and Elizabeth Bennet in Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice. And when every other girl dropped out of high school because of being pregnant at such a young age, May graduated with academic merits and already had plans for College.
It came as no surprise to her parents when May pursued her love for books and words by majoring in Literature. And finally, after a few more years, when every other girl has had a handful of children, May became the keeper of the public library of a small town. She became a librarian. Still, as you can see, May chose to be in the company of books. They were her constant companion in the silences of her youth. Well, along with me, of course.
Now then, I suppose that a love story will not be complete without the hero -- the leading man to rescue the leading lady from tragedy, the Mr. Darcy to the Miss Bennet, the Prince Charming to the Disney Princess, the -- erm, you get what I mean, right?
You’d be surprised to know that even though May seemed like she had no whatsoever social life to speak of, she actually had three men, other than her father, in her life. And just to be clear, these three men I’m referring to aren’t biologically related to her in any way.
The first guy was Miguel, the charming journalist, the second guy was Henry, the ever serious corporate lawyer and the last one was called Zeke, the righteous asshole of a bar owner.
Now, naturally, the question that follows is this: who among the three men is the Prince Charming to our Princess May?
To Be Continued...
Author's Note: Let me know what you think?
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