Just two years ago in class I remember our teacher asking if anyone still believed in true love.
I remember myself raising my hand immediately with an almost foolish, quite embarrassing certainty. I can’t recall if anyone else did the same but if so, there weren’t many.
Why? I was asked.
If there’s just one example of true love in my life, I replied, I believe in it – and there is one: my parents.
It’s almost funny, the funny thing being my foolish certainty then because obviously two years later they aren’t together anymore.
It is also funny how now, despite that, I still do believe in true love.
Sometimes I believe they still do love each other, but that love alone cannot make us ignore the stupidity, the illogic, and the complexity we are all fraught with.
Loving each other doesn’t mean you get to live together happily and without friction.
Heck, loving each other doesn’t even mean you get to stay together, period.
So why do I still, now, believe in true love? Firstly because I believe that true love is a choice, sometimes a difficult one.
I believe that there are people strong enough who’d make that choice again and again no matter how difficult it gets. I guess all that my parents did was make me stop believing that they’re as strong as I thought they were.
And if there isn’t such a person in my life I’d become one. I’d be my own example and my own reason to believe in true love.
That is all.