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Printed from https://writing.com/main/books/entry_id/298466-Never-Fall-in-Love
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Rated: ASR · Book · Spiritual · #135312
Who are we? Where are we going? Should we even care?
#298466 added July 14, 2004 at 11:47pm
Restrictions: None
Never Fall in Love
To me, love is the most terrifying and the most desirable thing I can think of. It's something that I think is worth fighting for, dying for, killing for, crying for. I would do anything for someone that I was in love with. The real question is, do I even know what love is?

I thought I knew.

I thought I was in love once in high school. It turned out to be just an adolescent infatuation. I didn't know her at all. I was more in love with the thought of being in love with someone and winning their heart than I was with her. I hurt her and myself when I finally told her. I wasted years of my life pining after her and it was utterly pointless. Now that I know her better, she's a distant friend that will always look at me as a misguided boy.

I must have forgotten about the details of how I came to love my high school 'sweetheart', when I met this new girl on this website more than two years ago.

And for the past year, I thought I was in love again. I thought about her daily, talked to her late into the night about everything, even our secrets, and I told her I loved her every time I logged off. She even told me she loved me too. I know she meant it. Of course, I only knew her online. Yeah, you can laugh and tell me how pathetic I am. I don't care. I can ignore hateful email with a click of the Delete button.

Don't think that I had no idea what I was getting into. When she first started telling me she loved me, I knew that she meant as a close friend. And we were, and still are, close. I can't be sure exactly what my thoughts were at the time. I remember trying to resist how I felt for her, telling myself not to fall in love with her. After all, Internet relationships aren't likely to work out for people like us. And yet, I started telling her that I loved her back. I meant it too.

When I recently let it slip that I was in love with her, not just that I loved her, she was taken aback. In her wisdom, she exposed the cycles I go through to my conscious mind. It's not that I didn't know that I end up falling in love with girls I can't have. I couldn't have my high school girl because she already had a boyfriend. I still wanted her regardless and thought that I would still be happy if only she would let me closer to her. I even held out hope that I could convince her to change her mind. It was irrational and emotional, so I thought it must be love. I selectively forgot it when I fell in love this second time.

I can't have her because she lives too far away. Some part of me hoped to change her mind and held out hope during the worst of times. I was convinced that my love for her would be enough to solve her problems and change her mind. I thought it was forever and chivalrous and glorious.

However, underneath all that I knew that I loved her because I thought she secretly loved me the same way; that she knew that outright admission would be foolish, so she kept it inside. What a lie that was. I knew the truth of what I was doing to her and myself. I knew that I was torturing myself when I cried for her and that I liked torturing myself for the idea of love. I knew everything that I did and I actively ignored it in favor of the sweet lies I could tell myself instead. I tell you, friends, that doublethink is possible. I can lie to myself while knowing the truth and believe one or both when the need suits me.

It was so easy to believe that she really was in love with me. Those three simple words "I love you" were all it took. That and she is the perfect girl for a foolish tragic romantic like me. I won't go into details, but the fact that she made such a great and close friend already made it so very easy to leap into delusional romantic fantasy. When she told me she loved me, despite the rational part of me knowing that she loved me like a family member, the desperate and love-starved part of me whispered to me that she was in love with me. Or that I was in love with her. It's hard to say which, or was it both? Lies like these are insidious. Love still means too much to me. Part of me wants real love so badly that it will believe the most flimsy of evidence.

As it turns out, I remembered telling myself that I should fall in love with her simply because I knew she would reject and hurt me. Simply to further my social experiment on myself. I actively forgot that I told myself that, but kept the memory around for times like this when I would need it. I knew what was coming, but conditioned myself to believe that it wasn't. I kept my consciousness soaked in pleasant thoughts and memories of her. Immediately applied doublethink to any lapses of feeling so that when I sat back down they were forgotten.

When she forced me to remember all this conditioning I put myself through, I was both horrified and pleased. The devil inside me laughed and fed off my sadness as I remembered what I'd done to myself and what I'd surely done to her. I knew that it wasn't a complete victory for the experiment as I'd hoped and I hated myself for even doing it in the first place. So many different and conflicting thoughts, all belonging to me, all invoking separate layers of emotion and thought.

The worst of it is that, once I knew that I'd consciously conditioned myself to love her, I found that I could easily turn it off. More horrifying and terrifying than anything I'd done so far, I discovered that, with a mere thought, I could turn off the love that I felt for her. The love that I fought to maintain. The love that I used to summon the bravery to tell her exactly what I felt and thought about her. The love that made me made me hurt so delightfully when she was in pain and made me elated when I made her feel better. The love that convinced myself was pure and real. I just turned it off and felt nothing.

If it were real love, how could I just do that and turn it off? But I knew at the same time that it was a lie and that I'd conditioned myself to feel it.

It was terrifying to think that I could do it again, if I wanted. If I decided that I couldn’t live without her love or my love for her, then it would simply be an exercise in doublethink to start over again and rebuild that fake, false love and begin the painful cycle over again.

To be honest, I can't do it. I love her too much. I love her too much as a friend to try to fall in love with her again... and hurt us both, maybe worse, next time. Even writing the statement causes that destructive and seductive voice to whisper to the outer edge of my consciousness. It begs me to go back and start over, for the good of the experiment. I won't do it to her again.

Part of me wants to write, with absolute conviction, "I'll just do it do someone else". I can only deny the statement a line to itself to make it a complete truth and admit that it does not represent how I really feel. But I know that given the chance with a new and wonderful girl, I would have to fight not to fall in love again. I might lose the next time too.

I may never fall in love with anyone ever. I'm too insane for that, it would seem. If I believe I am in love again, then it would be reasonable to assume that I've lied to myself to get there. However, since the conscious mind has given into the seductive lies of my evil, I would not be able to even acknowledge any such lies. Not even if she told me so. I might be so far gone that I would not accept it. Who knows?

But, if I realize that I can and will lie to myself in order to love someone who shows me affection, then I might be able to pull myself away from those feelings. The result is that I would have to burn away most conscious feelings for her. What would that leave me with? Not very much.

The real consequence is that I fear that I will never know the difference between real and manufactured love. How am I to know? Love hurts, I hurt myself for love. There are other, more nebulous conditions of love, but I'm too tired to explain them. I just don't think that I could tell the difference, if it came down to it. I would be forced to second-guess myself and wonder if I secretly conditioned myself to feel this way. How can I know when I doublethink the truth away? Maybe a clear conscience will be the true sign. But when you can convince yourself that "This time it's for real", why would I even look? There are too many hypocritical and contradicting statements to make any real prediction. One thing I know is that part of me would enjoy the turmoil I would put myself through trying to decide if this love was true. And in my weakness, the lies might easily persuade me to look the other way.

My last thought is, what if I'm lying to myself right now? What if I'm convincing myself that I don't love her just to spare her more pain on my account? What if this love is real and that I'm doublethinking myself into a lie so that I hurt myself even more when I ultimately give in yet again? Will it only be over when I cut all ties to someone who doesn't deserve to be subjected to my insane crap?

And I can't help but contradict myself yet again and wonder if those questions weren't posed by that insidious voice, trying to further it's own destructive agenda.

If it were possible, I would never feel anything ever again, so I could avoid boring you, and distressing myself, writing these long and elaborate monologues.

"I can't imagine a God who would care."
"I may be synthetic, but I'm not stupid."
Bishop, Aliens
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