I hate love. I detest it with a passion. Family, friends, and fairy tales taught me that love brought happiness. Love was the epiphany that, for the first time, made you care for someone else more than you care for yourself. Love, was married to bliss. But, to me, love must be cheating on bliss with evil. Love had brought me nothing but hurt. As Shakespeare once famously wrote for Iago to act out aloud; 'I will wear my heart on my sleeve, for daws to peck at'. For each woman I have chosen to offer my heart upon my sleeve for, they have taken out the knife of disrupt, and taken a few tough lunges. I would rather, as I am now, lay awake at night feeling lonely, snuggling up next to a cold wall, than to feel this pain of two parts of a heart repairing after such an emotional blow. I would rather spend my life dining out alone, with myself as a companion, than keep climbing on top of the shoulders of romantic success, for them to then walk off to aid some more fortunate soul. It doesn't hurt to climb up the tree, but it sure as hell batters when you fall out. One question I do pose, is why? Why me? Is there a God up there, bored of playing high almighty, so instead wanted to be my puppeteer, to stress how brilliant a creation bad emotions were. Or did several billon years of evolution decelerate to make me unattractive. What makes me so unattractive? Is it my looks? Perhaps I have the complexion of an ox, and people are yet to have the courage to tell me. Or maybe it's my nerdiness? Perhaps women are instantly turned off by my enjoyment of wearing sci-fi t-shirts, and talking about fan fiction on social networking sites. Or, maybe I'm just too different? It could well be that I am so abnormal to the rest of the human race that my only chance of romance is if the Mars Rover finds intelligent Extra-Terrestrial life.
And for those of you who would like to point out that I am too young to understand love, one can feel love from Day one. It is scientific fact that a toddler has a romantic infatuation with its mother. I know what I'm talking about. Not a single try for relation has concluded well, and all romantic guestures have gone unheard.
Iago, you may well hold your heart out on your sleeve, but it's not daws you should be worried about.
