I sometimes wonder, in my fond musings, what love feels like. It is in my common belief that only fools, idiots, the weak, the vulnerable and the lonely are those who succumb to this foolhardy emotion -- ironically, they fit my description and the general populace of this earth. They stumble and laugh at sweet no-meanings, giggle at nothings and make sense out of things that doesn't need sense to understand at all. So I wonder, why? Is logic thrown out the window when love comes by or does your mind go into overdrive as it pieces together signs, signals and actions you and said interest emanate?

I have no idea. I gave up finding equations to put it in a box, what I do instead is to run away from it when it gets too close. Reality has taught me that love is never enough. There are beautiful people meant for beautiful lives together but the feeling runs out and they part ways. Case in point? Celebrities -- such beautiful people, at the pinnacle of their lives but their relationships last for just a few years. I've known people who tell me time and time again that they've met Mr. Right or Ms. Perfect but I gave it no more than 6 months until they start bawling to me about "so much time wasted on what's-his/her-name" in which they did, in record time.

I can't understand it so I run. I save myself the trouble and run then when I find time to catch my breath, I say to myself that it was the right thing to do -- stop it before it even gets started because one thing was for sure about love, it won't happen if you kept your distance and stick a pole at it to keep it away. Yet, at each instance I run, my heart gets heavy, not from running away but from what I realize to have lost. Have I lost anything from what wasn't gained in the first place? In logic, I didn't... but in love, everything.

I got one text message that told me about it. Why cry for something that wasn't gained in the first place? Why cry for love when it wasn't even felt... when it doesn't even happen in the first place? I used to think that it made sense... that, in some respect, love is something gained and lost like some sort of bargaining chip you hand out to people you want to give it to but I was wrong. Love doesn't make sense, it laughs at it -- that's why rejection hurts so much. You do everything right; you make all the right moves, say all the right words and your heart puts you in the perfect -perfect- place and it seems like you are ready to let it consume you until your said interest rejects you. It doesn't make sense to feel everything to be right yet in the end, turning out to be just plain wrong.

The only solace I have is that it will all pass one day. In five years when I have a job, matters of the heart will feel so insignificant and love will find no place in me -- no place to hurt or taunt me. I'm afraid of it, I truly am since it's human nature to fear what we don't understand, it's just that in my case... I might be afraid of being loved. I'm afraid I can't take care of what was entrusted to me and I'm afraid of hurting other people so until I grow up, I'm afraid I'll have to keep running... down my lonely road.

I have to admit, there came a point when I went against the things I have just said. I let love (if you called it that at the time) cloud my judgment and I swooned for sweet nothings and no-meanings like every other person. I also admit that it was bittersweet that the very thought of her made me have sound sleep for days. I liked her but maybe that was what was so wrong about it because I knew deep down, that she didn't feel the same. Whenever I closed my eyes, reason would wrestle with emotion and always, ALWAYS, emotion would win but such a small battle couldn't win the war. Your heart is in the right place... but that doesn't mean that you'll get what you want... it never does. Love is never enough.

Running makes everything easier. Denial makes everything easier. Distance makes everything easier but none of these things make things better. Not one and this keeps me up at night.

I really wish we had the time and the place... but intentions are never enough. I'm afraid, I miss you.