Figuratively Speaking

Soulmates.

Family.

Destiny.

Passion.

Trust.

These are just some of the ways a person could describe what love is, how it is and what it is about. Yet, as love is one of the most complicated, scary and powerful involuntary mechanisms of the human brain, I feel like it cannot be described by genuinely simple nouns and adjectives, but instead, by an image—the most common and ancient way to communicate. I don't know what exactly fascinates me so much about the sweet topic, to the point I can't help but feel compelled and pulled to it, but nevertheless, I find myself one more time drowning in the oceans of my thoughts on it.

As children, our only worry is to learn. To know why our knee hurts when we fall to the ground, to know what that transparent, apparently void of consistency thing we are immersed in when we take a bath is, to understand the difference between the color of our eyes and the of the sea.

As we grow older, we begin to care less about the world surrounding us, and we start to doubt anything that was certain until that moment about ourselves, barely remembering our names. So anxiety, insecurities, nightmares and, in most severe cases, depression kick in and become the biggest meal our body feeds on in its daily diet.

That's where our image starts.

We are, so to say, part of the Monopoly game. During our childhood, we roll the game's dices for the first game until we live most of our life in its prison, trapped, clueless. Most times, we are unconsciously responsible for what happens in our mind, but always unable to stop it or to prevent it from hurting us. We live free to walk between the many shadows that light it and the demons that populate it, memorizing every inch of their obscure silhouettes, in handcuffs, with chains tattooed to our body and tape glued to our mouths when we try to escape it. We just live by fighting the prison, until we make it an abusive habit of ours, grow comfortable and eventually realize we can't defeat it, if not by the highest price.

As we drown in our own distorted, suffocating reality, we desperately wait for someone to alter our life, to make us fall in love with the game the same way we wait for the round to finish, or for the 'Get Out of Jail Free' card to actually get out of the prison. We are in a flower field and, even if we're surrounded by beautiful daisies, with each one of having the potential to be our favorite, only one will stupefy our senses and make them dulcet.

When this time comes, when we've finally met our soulmate, our missing half, as we're ready and mature enough to accept love, the prison shatters. We start rolling the dices again, eventually winning the game with our newfound love-infused energy.