My Symphony: For Blue Skies by Strays Don’t Sleep
“The heart has reasons which reason does not understand.”
– Blaise Pascal
I was just going over some pictures in the internet, and I found this one. Suddenly, I remembered what Pascal once wrote. I agree that the assumption of two hearts would probably be the assumption of the modern mind and its slavery to pure rationality. Science lacks the imagination to understand the heart, but the heart always simplifies any truth that is drowned in complexity.
I don’t know how I ended up looking at random pictures of hearts in the World Wide Web, but I do know that I somehow enjoyed every picture I set my eyes upon with trails of a weird discomfort and a slightly sawed-off torment of yesterday’s heartache that is still lingering on.
It’s already summer— the sun-soaked season most teenagers believe holds the best moments of their lives. But somewhere along my journey with the fresh breeze that summer transpires, I find that my head’s getting cloudy in a way that I sometimes can’t quite figure out what I’m feeling, or if I even feel anything at all. I remember that I felt the same way last summer (2010) and the summer before that (2009). So if I do the math, it’s been three summers that I’ve been feeling vague and illogically lonely. There’s this SAD thing. It stands for Seasonal Affective Disorder or, for a more general term, winter blues. Well, it’s just funny how I always seem to be happy when it’s the rainy season (since I am living in a tropical country) and get emotionally down come Summer. I guess I can say that I have acquired an abnormal case of summer blues (unless there’s a way of calling it summer-itis, which sounds undeniably odd so…nevermind).
I’m not gonna fool myself and believe that I can actually understand every feeling I feel every moment I feel it. Like what Pascal said, sometimes the heart is the only one that comprehends even when it’s all complicated. I’ll just leave it to my heart, I guess. However, I can’t help but wonder about several things:
Despite everything that has been going on in this mad world, how could some people (especially those typical couples) still possibly believe in the concept of “forever”? How could they manage to say “I’ll love you forever” or “We are forever; we are eternity”? How could they be so blind to the reality that forever is just a word in humanity? How could they be so oblivious of the anguish and sorrow that a failed promise gives?
If love never fails, why is it that it always seems to? Some agree that love can move the mountains. But why is it that sometimes, it can’t even move a person? How can love sometimes be not enough? Why? Why isn’t it ever enough for some people sometimes? If love is really the greatest and most powerful energy, why is it always beaten up by hatred? Why does darkness always seem to reign in the end?
There are days when I conform too much to the whole concept that no one loses anyone because no one owns anyone. But why do we all feel like we lost our most valuable possession everytime we break up with the people we love? So maybe love is an exception to the concept. Maybe in love, we are given the mystical faculty to capture the most beautiful and amazing thing in the world without really owning it. Maybe love really does lift us up where we belong. Maybe at the end of the day, love saves us from the death we once thought love itself has conspired for us.
The people we love make mistakes. We make mistakes. We all make mistakes. We always say that we will never hurt the people we love; if we did, we would say we didn’t mean to hurt them. But I think that it doesn’t really matter… because in the end it all hurts just the same.
Why does it always appear to be so difficult to love someone without ever feeling any doubt, or anxiety, or hate, or fear? We are always so afraid everytime we start falling in love for someone. Sure, you may try to fight it, you can try to deny it, but fear is always there. I’d like to associate this thought with the probability that love always comes with loss. Because no matter which side of the picture you look at, something inevitably disappears when we love. One by one, we lose certain elements in our lives because of love, and we are all afraid that one day we might lose it all… until such time that love itself isn’t there anymore.
Perhaps the most abstract manifestation of love has always something to do with destiny or fate. It’s apparently the most abstract, yet we all believe in it somehow. We all have our own share of anticipation of the destined future… the UNKNOWN. But we stumble and detest everything we get in contact with when our hopes fail and when we find out that destiny may never get to us any faster. So then we decide to chase it. We chase the unknown, and we end up being the one chased by tragedy.
Love is always complicated, and yet we delight in it and in all of its astounding enigma. There are many questions in love, but most of the time we get no answers. As a matter of fact, we’ve become so numb to the absence of answers that we are all turning into the questions we are so fond to ask. Thus, we all ask ourselves the whys and the hows, and we never stop until we realize that not every question has an answer. And sometimes, if ever there is an answer, maybe we just don’t have to know what it is. It’s just there. In our hearts. Sometimes, the heart is the ONLY thing that understands.
I can never understand everything about love but underneath my brain of ice, is a heart that burns in the fires that transcend the reason that reason doesn’t understand.