A la folie

i'll admit it's cute. but as much as you wish someone will one day say those words to you, as much as you wish that someday someone will confess that he's fallen just as madly and deeply for you as you have for him -- doesn't it scare you even a little bit?

we idolize this kind of love -- passionate, feverish, intoxicating, sensual yet senseless. we speak of romeo and juliet, sid and nancy, nana and ren, in reference to the most beautiful, unconquerable form of that four letter word. is this what we are all searching for? for a raging madness whose effects are only potentially cured by time?

there's a story of a girl. more than anything, she prized her independence. she never compromised herself, never mixed with alcohol or drugs in fear of losing self-control. yet she fell just as hard as anyone else. the boy and the girl were revered as the perfect pair, their relationship idolized by adoring fangirls who had been fed all their life to aspire to this all-consuming love. but she hadn't wanted this. she didn't want to be another lovedrunk addict, craving for another shot of euphoria, utterly dependent and defenseless. you don't necessarily choose to be ill. you don't necessarily choose to be afflicted.

we think there's something romantic about violent passion. it's not just a coincidence that they almost all end in tragedy.