Andi, Part I

As much as I believed in love, I also have this tiny, but burdening sense of self-doubt. Romantic love is something that I have always pursued and dreamed of since I was little. It was not the grandeur gestures that drew me into the obsession of finding romantic love, but it was more about the domestic life that romantic love offered. The intimacy and the warmth of having someone's attention and affection solely on you. Romantic love is something otherworldly; a whimsical, ethereal being that not everyone has the chance to experience in their life. It was something that I thought missing in my life.

I wanted romantic love. All my life I was called a hopeless romantic for believing in it and aiming for it in life. I also had been called delusional, by a group of unmentionable sociopaths with no life, for believing the existence of it. I also been told to get my head out of the gutter for believing that one day someone would want to share their life with me.

At one point of my life, I began to realise that perhaps romantic love is not in store for me. That Life, the Universe, and everything would not want me to experience it for imperceptible reasons. Maybe it's because that, if I had romantic love, I would crave for it when it's gone and would not appreciate the honest platonic love that my friends gave me on daily basis.

And then our path crossed.
The first time I saw you, I wonder, "Is he going to be another stranger in my life?"


[Mabella Rehastri]