I Want To Love The Way We Love

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I have been reading online articles religiously and following instructions on how I ought to behave in a relationship, lists of landmines to avoid in prevention of the explosion of relationships, and the sort. And I decide that I have had enough of random strangers over the Internet preaching methods to please the Significant Other or describing guidelines to follow to a happy ending.

Understanding that every individual is created by differentiated intertwined personality threads and emotions vines, we should be aware that every couple is unique and there is no overarching model of a perfect relationship. I do not want to dream of a fairytale romance where the knight in shining armor rescues a damsel and off they gallop into a happy ending in the sunset on his black horse. I do not want to envy couples in seemingly perfect relationships from their sugarcoated Instagram pages and honeyed conversations on Twitter. And most importantly, I do not want to be taught how to love and how to be loved.

Everyone is different and we love in multifarious ways that varies across people. I do not want to follow a model on how to love because I want to love the way I love, and to feel loved the way I feel loved (and not the way I’m supposed to feel loved and pretending that I do feel loved in accordance to words of anonymous strangers over online platforms).

I want to love with a burning passion that torches the deep abyss of my heart. I want to love like venomous creatures that destroy trespassers on sacred grounds. I want to love like indestructible duct tape that binds my Significant Other and can only be slashed by cruel words. I want to love like a stubborn child refusing to share candy with anyone in the playground. I want to love him most ardently, and only him.

I want to be loved like thorns of ivy that claw at intruders drawing blood. I want to be loved like poisoned arrows prepared to attack faceless targets in hidden dungeons. I want to be loved like rose petals caressing the snow on winter mornings. I want to be loved like a blind man who writes beautiful words using melodies. I want to be loved most fervently in a way that is selfish and destructive, yet understanding and sacrificial. I want to be loved in a way that only I can be loved (and to dispose anyone else deep in a forest haunted by ferocious beasts).

I do not want to love as I’m taught and love like a passing drizzle in a drought. I want to love like thunderstorms where thunder roars and lightning blazes. I do not want to be loved in sprinkles, I want to be love and love with the full intensity one’s capable of loving. I’m unique and so are you, and maybe we should all love in ways that we love.