a Journey

We were talking about love once, and I realized that I learnt to love not through some great fairytale romance, but through the love that people have shown me through time.

Like when your best friend says: "It's alright, I'm here for you. Don't worry, things will turn out fine." instead of a well-deserved "I told you." And you know she's saying the words that you can't say, and she doesn't mind saying it alone without your open support, because she knows you need your emotions to be acknowledged. But just not from yourself. After almost a decade of friendship, she still hangs on through all the roller coaster rides you put her through. A reluctant passenger but a fiercely loyal friend.

And your brother tells you not to "say shi*te like that" when you turn emo on him for being such a basket case and troublesome sister. And you know that you ought to have got smacked but all he can say is: "I've never judged you. I only interfere if I think it will affect your happiness ten years down the road."

Even more so, when your dad drives an hour through peak hour traffic, just to pick you up from your crummy campus on a rainy Wednesday. To top it off, he drives back another hour just so you can have your favourite dinner at a rackety place near your old childhood place. And he doesn't complain; only thinking of how you can save time travelling so you can enjoy home comforts more.

So, despite all this talk about "great romances": Those would mean nothing if I hadn't first learnt the meaning of love through them. After all, how can we build a house without a foundation? How can we learn to love if we weren't shown love?