Wednesday, December 2, 2015

This madness that consumes

If ever my English found this article... Hi ma'am! Told yah I'll lift my pieces from my blog...

It’s a madness no one can escape; it’s an illness no one can be cured of…. Yes, I’m infected; I know I can’t be cured. But why does my heart feel at ease knowing that it can lead me to death? My dear reader let me tell you about the disease I suffer, let me tell you about the illness called love.

Dessen (2004), stressed out in her book The Truth About Forever, that there is never a time or place for true love, that it happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment. And she’s right. You don’t have a say on who you’ll be falling in love, you don’t have a say when your heart will be ripped apart. No one knows when, no one knows what, no one knows why, it just happens in an instant.

Loving someone is the moment that Heinlein (1991) described as the condition in which the happiness of the other person is essential to your own. Yes, I know right, and it is also the moment you hand him the power to put you up and break you down.

Love according to Oliver (2012) in the novel Delirium, Amor deliria nervosa (love) is the deadliest of all deadly things, and I can’t help but agree, it’s the most accurate description after all. It’s the deadliest because only the people you love has the power to break you apart. And as Clare (2011) had coined in her novel City of fallen Angels, I think even when you heal, you're never what you were before. You can put the pieces back together, but it’ll never be the same. And Stephen King (2001) was definitely right when he wrote ‘Hearts can break. Yes, hearts can break. Sometimes I think it would be better if we died when they did, but we don't.’ We definitely don’t.

I believe I’m already misleading you people but I’m not talking about love with someone of the opposite sex, but I’m talking about love for the people who’s with you since then till now: our family. I lost my father not more than five months ago, I was there beside him as he gasped his final breaths, and lived his final moments. Yes, I was beside him all throughout the end. I can elaborate how I witness blood coming out of his lips and how the wires and tubes snaked towards his body. And I tell you it’s the most painful thing ever, that I cried nonstop and wished for someone up there to just take my life instead of my father’s, but that’s not possible. I swear I was already on Phase Three or the critical phase of Amor Deliria Nervosa, as stated by Lauren Oliver, difficulty in breathing, pain in the chest, difficulty in swallowing; refusal to eat, complete breakdown and delusions. As Oliver (2012) stated it affects your mind so that you cannot think clearly, or make rational decisions about your own well-being. Well, believe it or not I already had a razor on my wrist that night.

            Call me idiotic, call me whatever you want but until now I’m still grieving, until now I’m still crying every 26th of the month. This disease had really struck me hard and the silliest thing was I don’t want the cure. Maybe, we are better off without love but as Coelho (2006) said “love is a disease no one wants to get rid of. Those who catch it never try to get better, and those who suffer do not wish to be cured.” Why? Because as I, Fabros (2015) had pointed out in my novel How to be Dead? “Love is a fleeting moment that doesn’t need to be forgotten, love will always be kept inside a chest buried deep within my heart,” maybe within our hearts.

            

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