While other little boys were learning how to fly kites and busy playing with their miniature cars, I was usually occupied making a home with my stuffed animals and daydreaming of prince charmings and happily ever afters. And as years went by, all those romantic novels and songs and movies affirm the childhood fairy tales and I grew up believing that when I fall in love, it will be forever; that the greatest thing you’ll ever learn is just to love and be loved in return; that L-O-V-E is meant for me and you.
Then life happened.
In fairy tales, Cinderella never needed to worry that the charming prince would ever give in to the wily seductions of her stepsisters and the prince never had to set up an ironclad prenup because Cinderella might be a gold digger. They’ve found one another and finally, finally they can live happily. And not just happily, mind you, but also ever after. I suppose the authors forgot to insert a footnote that says that happiness is an abstract concept and few – if any – things ever last.
Life sure has ingenious ways to clear away your delusions.
So I deliberately wore a big, black, bad wolf-skin cape over my fuzzy pink fleece. And though simply pretending that nothing can ever hurt you doesn’t mean that nothing ever will, I thought it’s still better than nothing. So the daydreamy, naive little boy dreaming of love at first sights and true loves became a cynical, sarcastic young man still dreaming of love at first sights and true loves.
And this need for love – or something like it – has driven me to do various things from the typically rebellious behaviour of running away from home to the reasonably vanilla addiction to spending hours in a channel on the Internet relay chat. All in the name of finding the elusive One.
No such luck so far, although imitations are a dime a dozen and come at wholesale price.
Sometimes I wish childhoods, fairy tales, and love songs never have to end.