a strange reaction to love stories.

I find it incredibly strange.

Why is it that when I watch or read love stories nowadays, it just feels… sad?

Of course the kilig feeling is still there. But instead of enjoying the feeling, I feel like I’m being crushed by a giant pillow. All soft and warm, but extremely heavy.

I could still feel the tingle on my palms after watching the Korean drama Coffee Prince. Many people have recommended that I watch it, and it being a total hit here in the country, I’ve decided to see what the fuss is all about. It’s cute, and the actors were very good. I actually marathoned it for about two days, for about 1,020 minutes, so my head hurts like crazy now, the way your head would hurt after eating too much candy, or smoking too many cigarettes. Coffee Prince was great, but somehow, it didn’t really affect me the way I expected it to.

My friends said I’d cry like crazy after watching it. I was hoping for a total gut-wrenching cry, the kind that makes you feel refreshed afterwards. But no tears came. There were times that the gut-wrench was there, but still, no tears fell.

There were a few scenes that I loved. But everytime the leading guy would grab the girl’s arm, I feel like I was being transported to a different time. A time when someone did that to me, though it hurt, it was ok. The kilig was still there. And then, to a time when I tried to grab his arm, and he said he hated it when I touched him. It hurt, and it was not ok.

Everytime the leading guy would gaze lovingly at the girl, I get transported back to that time when we were eating dinner, and his eyes melted when he looked at me. It was such a tender look that one cannot describe accurately. Words will never do justice. And it pains me to know that I haven’t been looked that way for years.

I think I have become that antisocial that despite being extremely happy to have friends, I’m currently shunning people who want to talk to me. I am not nice, it takes too much effort to be nice to somebody else. Right now, I only want to talk to certain people, but those people don’t want to talk to me.

So for the moment, no more love stories for me. I think my heart is about to suffocate.

Plus, I find myself strangely muttering Korean expressions. Not so good if you don’t really know Korean.

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This depression should not last. I’m trying to prevent an inevitable sink to the bottom of the quagmire. So, I go out even when I don’t feel like it, I laugh even when I don’t feel like it, I blog even when I think my computer wont respect me in the morning for utter cheesiness. Hell, I listen to Korean pop songs to elevate my spirit! I am determined not to fall all that deep into this slump.

But how come I feel like this is going to be the deepest of them all?

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I’ve mostly been single all my life. Mostly. I have no use for love stories. I even prayed to be out of love when I felt it because I thought it was too much. I’m happy being single. The thought of being responsible for another person’s happiness terrifies me.

How come I have the sudden need to feel that arm around me again? How come I’m craving to feel that hot kiss again? How come I despair at night, when I want to fall asleep thinking of somebody, and there is no somebody to think about?

It sounds pervy but it isn’t. Just undeniably pathetic.

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Now I feel like crying. Great.

~ by denice on 2 May, 2008.