Recently I’ve been thinking that people like me aren’t supposed to exist. People who don’t breathe relationships and romance. People who don’t think being single somehow violates the laws of nature. I guess, in the scientific sense, I do violate the laws of nature. If everyone was like me, humanity would cease to exist. That’s a scary thought, isn’t it? The worst part is that I’ve never met anyone like me, which kind of implies that everyone else has the opposite problem, which makes me afraid to walk by myself after dark.
It’s hard for me to make friends without falling in love. That sounds completely opposite to the paragraph above, doesn’t it? But if we are friends, it doesn’t matter if you’re a girl or a boy, I will fall in love with something about you. Maybe it’s your eyes, or your laugh, or the way you always say thank you to the person who rang up your order. I will create fictional worlds to put you in and write stories about you, because you are too good and too beautiful to be forgotten. No one should be forgotten.
That’s how shallow my view of love is. I probably sound really bitter, which I’m not. I just don’t get it.