Hopeless?

There's a romantic in all of us. Well, most of us, I guess. But the point is, that one way or another, we long to be adored, fancied, wooed, and loved. A sense of importance that stems from the notion that another person longs for your attention, your presence, your affection. A feeling of purpose that is to requite and reciprocate the passionate expressions of amour. Ah yes, to love and be loved. Such a beautiful thing.

But then again, love is but a rose. Along with it's beauty is it's sting. It may be the life to most, but death to the unsung. It is but a two-edged knife that severs the ties that bind our passion, but also cuts deep into the soul, should it be wielded haphazardly.

I am no stranger to both sides of this most precious coin. It has its value, and its costs. I have loved, betrayed, and lost, all but for the pursuit of that one woman to ease the longings of my hopelessly romantic heart. I tried all that I could, exerted what little I had, crawled, howled, pleaded, and bled for it. But alas, there's only so much one man can take.

I have grown weary of chasing like a madman, flailing like a fish out of water, like a rooster with its head cut off. I have given up, it seems. I have lost all manner of will to carry on loving those who claimed to have loved me. I no longer have it in me to think of myself as someone who will end up with a lady who adores me as much as I do. The mere thought of it seems laughable now, as ridiculous as sow wearing scarlet boots and a bonnet.

And so, I no longer yearn for another's love, but the love of my own self. A chance to learn and perhaps be able to understand myself better. I wish to see what it is that I must love in myself, before I start to love again. How I ought to view my being, before loving another. And in this endeavor, I wish to find peace and satisfaction, without having to cling to another person. To have contentment in the face of being alone.

I pray that I find this in the near future, that I may seek to improve myself. Not for the sake of my love for some person, but for my love of self.