Thursday, March 1, 2012

You and Me

A love born of friendship. Isn't that the ideal? Aren't those the stories that the films, the books, the music, have told us is the best form of love? Don't we all wait until we find that one person we never thought we'd find, who coincidentally, have been right in front of us, just as oblivious and ignorant as we are, waiting for the same thing? Isn't that sudden jolt of awareness, or that slow progressive creep, the dawning and realization that we have been so blind and stupid to come into it of our own accord the very thing we crave for most in the world? Isn't falling in like with a friend what we all secretly, buried deep in the tiny crevices of our too-many times broken hearts, want?

I used to think so. Even amidst all of my "it's a bad idea to date a friend" arguments, I secretly believed that to the few lucky ones who happened upon this great form of love, they had it best. Even after countless debates and endless introspection, even knowing the enormous risks of this undertaking, I found that those brave, fortunate ones deserved what they got. We needed people like them to pin our own hopes on, didn't we? We, with our neuroses and flaws and imperfections, needed to find people who inspired us to fight the good fight... fail, and keep fighting.

I get it. I see the appeal. It's wonderful to realize that something so pure and genuine as a platonic love, based solely on personality and time spent together, can develop into a love that provokes emotions so intense, you feel it palpitate. You see it breathe a life of its own. That's awe-inspiring. It's what inspires artists to make their art. It puts notes on a sheet, words on paper, paint on a canvas, actions into film. People spend their lifetimes looking for something even remotely close to that.

However, what the movies don't tell you is the uncertainty and insecurity that comes with falling in like with a friend. They don't show you the overanalyzing, the conflicting emotions, the discrepancy in sides,the gut-wrenching, heartbreaking, stomach-churning, panic-inducing, gripping fear that holds you hostage when you're at limbo over what happens next. They keep you in the dark of how to handle situations when his own friends doubt his motives. If they don't trust him, why should you?

Then begins the insecurity, the pit-falling feeling of not being first choice. That rollercoaster of emotion when you think you are his last desperate attempt to get it just right. When comfort and assurance that you are a good person who will not do something so drastic as to break his heart, especially because you don't have the power to do so, are the only things going for you, is the love still great?