I don’t think I am ready for love. Excuse my cynicism but allow me to explore my statement.
I have reasoned that love is a form of energy. How else do we explain the heat that kisses your face when receiving a phone call or text from that specific person who’s face has now conjured in your mind? And equally so that deathly desire to disappear into your sheets when your heart has been shattered? The polarities of hot and cold that radar your heartbeat should at least say that love is much much more than bland emotion.
In the twenty even years that I have been alive I cannot truly say that I have learned enough about myself to give it all away to someone else. One can only treasure something they value, should I not know the complete value of me how do I trust you with its safe keeping?
Personally I think my love carries the frequencies that liken light. Given any particular prism I project an array of colours and I am only discovering the palette of my spectrum.
I fall in love all the time with different features of the human being. I am not experimental, I just do not know what my best colour is.
Right now I am in the kindergarten of discovery, enjoying bright and dull and the picture it gives against clean canvas. So how can I honestly say to one person, “I love you”. It would be a tragedy that would disrespect the passions of Shakespeares Romeo and Juliet (probably not the best models for love either)
So indulge me universe. Tease my taste with bright and dull. In due time – perhaps not through trial and error – but surely I will discover my pink in the colour wheel of love.