The difference between being in love and wanting to be in love - some may not find so much of a difference.Too easily, people get swayed because of the very charm it has on almost all. I mean, love, in all its different forms is very powerful, be it subtle or pronounced. Those who have been through the painful part may find themselves a bit immune to its spell but not for long - only because it never ceases, it never retreats, it always finds its way to the most vulnerable part of one's heart. No matter how formidable one's defenses are, it never runs out of cunning ways to make one bow down to its charm.
Its not hard to understand why we are so vulnerable to the summons of love. Love is intoxicatingly powerful; it can alter emotions, overturn decisions, and make seriously absurd ones, too. Once unrequited, it also leaves excruciatingly painful marks; memories that will linger and follow us, no matter how far we run or hide. The worst part is, suffering is an inevitable part of it: its as if pain is the significant other half, only that we get to see it a bit later, after the sweetness has faded, as soon as the first sign of conflict emerges and as soon as one starts to fall out of love.
And yet, it still retains that irresistable charm. We, humans, heed its call, although some may not immediately answer; some put up with a bit of resistance. Choosing to take love's side or choosing to go against it, requires the same amount of courage, much like life and/or death. To know that even in the arms of love, we can suffer, and yet we still choose that decision is like going to battle knowing full well of an impending death. To run away from it, to suppress and deny it's place in our life, requires enormous self-restraint to the point of masochism. So really there is no escaping it. Either way, we show a taint of bravery and either way we suffer.
But then again, what keeps us from resisting? Simple. The mere experience, the blush of love keeps us undeniably alive. Heart beating faster, tongues getting tied not knowing what to say, uncontrollable blushes, clumsiness, perkiness, and other peculiar behaviours which is more or less a sign of a deviation from the normalcy of our existence. We delight, consciously or unconsciously, because it makes our existence not simply that - we begin to live. Every little thing matters: the colors of flowers, the dust hovering in the atmosphere, the crispness in the laughter of children or friends, the revelation of beauty in the most unexpected places - the lightness of being.
If we think about it, weighing the consequences and "benefits", standing from a risk perspective or simply a logical point of view, how much do we gain if we allow ourselves to love and be in love (and by this I mean, a romantic kind of love)? Is it really worth going through the hell of heartaches, if for a moment in time, we will have our share of heaven in the arms of the someone who we love?
Being in love, means that we have a definite receiver of that love that we hold inside. We may not know him or her yet but we are not letting ourselves get any less of what we have in mind or who we have in mind. Although of course, there are exceptions - those who have found love in the most unexpected situations. A testament of the fact that really nothing is so certain in this lifetime.
They say that we don't really get to realize that we are in love until it finally hits us. And then just like how the chaos is after a bomb has hit its target, we stand and stare in space without any idea of what befell on us and where to go to. I doubt if the first reaction would be joy - I would bet it is more of confusion, of questioning and fear. We are in love if we find the least time to plan for what will come until it really comes. There face to face with love, leaves us with less chance to imagine but probably makes it more real than a dream.
Wanting to be in love is more like day dreaming to the next level. We feel the emotions of people who are inlove yet we don't have our someone to give it to. We delight at the thought of someone liking us, of someone falling for us and we feel as if we are in love. The danger of this is that there is a tendency to throw ourselves to the next available stranger who would show the slightest appreciation of us. When this happens, there is a big possibility that who we have settled for is not the right one for us. We have allowed our own fantasies to get the better judgement and hence, the better of us.
Why am I saying this? I am guilty. I want to be in love. I ache when the protagonist got her heartbroken and delight when she found her way back to the one she loves. I watch feel good movies and feel in love. And yes, I am guilty of somehow flirting with the next person who shows interest in me. Its a good thing I know the difference now. Sometimes though, its just good to be caught unaware.
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