I don't believe in love at first sight. To tell the truth, I don't believe in love at all. The world is a logical, reasonable place, and love is just a rush of hormones. True love, as science has proved, lasts only eighteen months.
If the first sight comes from the heart, the second must come from the brain, must it not? And how much happier we might all be, if we realised that and just waited for second sight to come first.
Poets believe that the heart has its reasons, that reason knows nothing of.. A contradiction in words and in belief. I choose to deny the reasons of the heart. Except once.
Late one night, you asked me a question, and I said, "Yes". And true to intellect, I have questioned it a million times hence. Was it necessary? Were we not happier apart? Did we have to dance this stage together- through regret and anger, cutting our feet and bleeding over the shards of unrealistic expectations, slipping on tear-stained patches- Sometimes graceful, others clumsy. Standing still, leaping weightless through the air.. the whole rigmarole of the dance. For what?
What reasons did my heart have, to make me choose this life? As love stands questioned, what defends it?
A snowflake. Well, a few of them, really. Falling on a bright winter evening, as we walk in a garden by a sorcerer's felled tree (Even his strong magic could not hold against the October storm, and now his birds are wintered in other places.)
It has been a long, hard day- Only one person believes in my work, the others have all trashed it. Not caring to read it through, it is easier for them to invoke terms like "not enough effort" and "vague", and ask me to re-write until they can understand it without reading a word. In the face of their critique, I am a child once more, questioning my abilities, exhausted with the effort of justification.
And then we go for a walk in the park. You speak of the tree, and the ducks, and the snow. We throw snowballs, I fall in the snow and you help me up. Walk across fallen tree trunks, make snow angels. Find a quaint coffee shop, and you sit and wait until I am ready to tell you my worries. Buy me chocolate cake, and hot chocolate, and we sit on an overstuffed couch and dissect the mural on the wall.
And somewhere in the evening, the world spirals back into normality.
I was told once that the love of a good man can save your life. A gentle spirit to lift my own, a strong heart to lean back on, peace to come home to... What more reason is needed, to justify each step of that painful dance?
Sometimes, second sight and first come together, and the only word in response to their question is- "Yes."
