In the past seven years, my relationships have taught me more than I could ever from my parents, school, friends, books, anything. I’ve become a better person and met amazing people I probably would have never met under different circumstances. The most important thing I’ve learned about is Love.
Love is complicated. It’s a lot of things: stupid, confusing, spontaneous, frustrating, beautiful, surprising, but most of all, complicated. I think I hate it. Not because I’m afraid I’ll lose it, but because it can take so much out of a person. Constantly giving yourself (with the possibility of getting hurt), always feeling crazy and second guessing yourself. Are these supposed to be the things that make love fun? Being so crazy with love that you just let it engulf you. Maybe at first, but after a while you can lose yourself. Or are you supposed to lose yourself and become a completely different person? Someone you don’t recognize. Maybe if you become a better person. You stop throwing things during an argument or learn more about your sexuality. But is that enough?
There’s a fine line you must always walk: between compromise and selfishness, the whole truth or white lies; it’s dizzying. In romantic comedies, everything falls perfectly into place at the end and you never see the happy couple hate each other. In real life, nothing ever falls into place; you just deal with it and hope things change. Doing the right thing and trying to be even a little perfect—if there is such a thing as perfect—is impossible.
What if you communicate with, trust, and love your significant other completely, but things still go wrong? How do you really know when to just walk away? When you start questioning it? You could take a break, but does that ever solve anything? Wouldn’t that just mean one step closer to breaking up, to giving up?
How much trust, communication, honesty, and perfect can you have before everything is right?