I was 5 when I watched Cinderella
fall in love all because the shoe fit
The prince was on his knee as soon as
he saw that "there was something about her"
I learned love was about belongingness
It didn't matter if it was a person or a shoe.
I was 7 when I saw a prince ride on
his horse to save a pretty princess
who wore a dazzling gown who
Looked the best and when she saw the prince
She knew "he was the man of her dreams"
I learned love happens at first sight and
Love happens only when you look at the part.
I was 9, when once upon a time and
Fairytales didn't seem fascinating anymore
There was a realization that I didn't
Look like those princesses,
I was loud and didn't need the saving
And to be fair, no prince was to be seen around
I once again immersed myself in fiction to feel love.
At 10, I discovered when feelings
It couldn't be put into words that's how
I would know that I was in fact in love
But I'll give it a shot
Love smelled wonderful,
Love looked so good
Love's back was glossy and irresistible
I couldn't keep my hands to myself
Love came in paperback and with a bookmark.
I was 11 when I fell in love with a boy
He looked just like they described him
He was tall, dark and handsome
His hair flew with the wind
Charming as hell, his eyes gleamed
Violens cued and time stopped
My first boy crush was Jeremy from Phineas and Ferb.
I was 12, when I learnt love was magical
But it came with a baggage called heartbreak and grief
I cried endlessly with a big bowl of ice-cream
When the love of my life died
Cedric Digory was killed in 4th part of the Harry Potter series and my heart shattered in 400 pieces.
At 16, love had different meanings
Love made me feel everything fiction described
Love looked just like a dream
But walked in like my worst nightmare
Love came in with new confusion
Could she be my love?
Afterall MY love was supposed to be a prince, not a princess
That year I realized there was much to learn and unlearn about love
I was 17 when I stepped out of the closet
As David Rose announced
that he loved all labels of wine
With tissues in hand because I
Would never have love like David and Patrick!
I was 18 when I stopped caring about love
Because I wasn't Jane Austen's heroine
I was her hero
Socially awkward, always annoyed
All I did was read Sally Rooney that year
I saw a spitting image of myself in her protagonist
They all isolated themselves and had mental illnesses
But I lacked love like them.
I was convinced my love was like that of Murakami's stories,
Always left open ended
Never completely stated.