And in the end, we were all just humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness.
People believe that love is going to fix them. I don’t blame them for it. from childhood, we have been conditioned to believe that the power of love triumphs all and the princess is saved by the prince and all is well and good forever. in romance and teen novels, we read about how the puts back the broken pieces of the tortured heroine, or maybe, sometimes, the other way round.that love is the glue which sticks our broken pieces and sometimes when some aforesaid are lost forever to the everlasting wind of time and hurt, welds us with the other person, who is (comparatively) whole. in real life, however, love is probably the shittiest glue to ever exist. it’s like the envelope glue which is meant be used only once. Yes, it does stick the broken pieces back together-sometimes-but it’s also like that water soluble adhesive that we unknowingly use to mend our broken bathroom slippers. it’s like heroin, riding high in your veins, making you want more. love doesn’t fully heal you- it’s like that cough syrup which helps with the coughing but worsens the congestion. you think you are well and healed by love, but when the object of your love is no more, you realise that you are even more broken than ever before, for when you welded your hearts together, you mended each other’s gaps and holes and when they left you, they took away their pieces as well as yours with them. it’s like a waxing session gone wrong, not only does the hairy waxing strip go off, but it also takes with it the upper epidermis, leaving you defenseless and ready to break again. its like putting the slipper in water, unshielded from the crashing waves, so that the pieces break away again and we lose them forever in the vast unknown.