Love. Romance. How could these two words affect us so much? Maybe we’re too attached? But attachment is quite different compared to love itself. Perhaps, we’re too busy daydreaming what love could do and how romantic it would be.

But love– it is something that creates wonder in me. How could I love someone who is sophisticated and wise in life? I know nothing. I am only trying to figure out what living looks like. And it sucks because men are part of it.

Where did I get the urge to like and love when my life is a misery? The man I used to curse and the man I met every time I walked in the hallway of university. How could he be so grateful that I existed when in my whole life I refuse to live? He’s far from what I expected. It’s funny because my heart went crazy every time I saw him.

Just after that, I realized that I put so much effort and this is it… He became part of the novel I’m writing. I turned him into paper, so I could go back and read the part where I hated men but dated one anyway.