I would believe if it were to be true.

If I speak in the tongues of men and of angels, but have not love, I am only a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have a faith that can move mountains, but have no love, I am nothing. If I give all I possess to the poor and surrender my body to the flames, but have not love, I gain nothing.

Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It is not rude, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices within the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Love never fails. But where there are prophecies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away. For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when perfection comes, imperfection disappears. When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When I became a man, I put childish ways behind me. Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.
1 Corinthians 13:1-13

I would like to believe that I watch movies like The Notebook, A Walk To Remember, Twilight, and Armageddon because I am a “hopeless romantic” and I like to watch the passionate love stories of others. But I’ve come to terms with myself on countless occasions, whether in the quiet sanctity of my mind, or out loud, where, still, no one can hear me.
I cannot tell anyone for they will surely think me madd, or emotional, of which I’m not sure is worse. I am not madd. My emotional stability is fine. I’m not going to become a jumper and go find a highrise somewhere just because I’ve come to terms on how certain aspects of life might not ever appeal to me.
I think I believe that love can happen for others. Love is such a typical term used amongst hormone-crazed teens and savage romance novelists, because true love, as I’ve mentioned before, cannot be seen through fascionation &/or lust.
Epic true love, that of fairytales and Hollywood movies, might just be between someone, somewhere, in existance. I can accept that, I can fathom that just as much as I can fathom another species of intelligent life somewhere on a far galaxy trillions of lightyears away from us here on Earth. They are of equal likelihood.
But epic love will not ever happen for me. I feel that, for some reason, I am unlovable in the romantic, passionate, heart-aching, earth-shaking, dazzling way that I need. If I was to find love in someone, that man, yes man, I cannot love a b o y, I would have to capture their very heartbeat, they would have to mean so much to me, and I to them, that I couldn’t stand it.
I just do not think that kind of spectacular emotion could exist inside me. It has nothing to do with my looks, or how I act half the time, or where I’m from; a person seeking love cares little about those things, because as it says in Corinthians, love cares nothing at all about pride, and it is patient.
I need someone to be so incredibly patient with me, and kind; someone to respect my very traditional values and take them into their own heart ( someone that may share the same views as me, and respect anything and everything that I choose in that matter ); I will fail them: I am not perfect, so I need that endeared one to accept me for every flaw, and catch me, hold me, when I so desperately need it most.
There are just some things family cannot do for you. If I cry myself to sleep because of all the hurdels I’m facing every day, family cannot be there beside me in the morning to just hug me and tell me not to worry about it, that everything will get better because they won’t allow it to go wrong. Family cannot make me feel butterflies, and chills, and goosebumps, and heart flutters; they cannot dazzle me and be on my mind every moment of the day and night. They cannot fill my dreams with such pleasant feelings that cancel out all the negatives – – and even though I feel like I need that so incredibly much, I can never feel it. My soul might want it, but this body is not capable of producing such an emotion to draw love in; how am I supposed to be a good enough person to attract a kindred soul from this wide world? How do you do that, attract your soulmate, for lack of a better term, without being publicized or smacking your face on a billboard?
I can’t imagine anyone thinking me special enough to propose to, or to marry and say “I do” with a smile on their face and tears in their eyes…I just can’t see it, because I almost know it’s not there.

I say all this because I am no naiive teenager. My grandmother called me an old soul once, because of how aware I am of who I am, what I can accomplish, and what I cannot.

People say “Believe and the world could be yours!” Really? Believe and you can cheat death? Believe in yourself strong enough, and you’re just going to fly off to Neverland with your best friend & lover & soulmate (all the same person, I’m presuming) ?
Who the hell came up with that. I am self-aware, self-taught in so many things. I would believe in love for myself if it were to ever have a possibility of being true.

Remember what I said about not being able to tell anyone about this. See what I mean?

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