Received a text message just now that went like this:

—and that pulled my trigger.

It’s just the sick notion of “someone greater” that took out my mean, temper side, because seriously, if everyone has to go looking for “someone greater” then we might as well bury our heads in the sand like ostriches and wait for the end of the world to come because we'll all be forever alone. Really, it’s like saying you should look for the latest technology, and the thing is, you can’t look for the latest technology because it constantly changes.

Tch. “Someone greater” my ass (“my Ash”, but that’s just me being boring).

It’s just another one of those messed up excuses for not being contented with who you have and what he is and what he is not. People who believe this should just read Schubert’s Phenomenology of Love, and I’m not even kidding. When you love someone, you don’t go looking around and finding anyone greater because you wouldn’t even get to realize how much lesser the one you love is. You love and you see more and more of the one you love and you will never get tired — or if you do get tired, it will be borne with patience and care and even joy and it won’t even be called masochism. It’s just what it is, it’s love.

The thing is, people seemed to have forgotten the part where love is supposed to hurt. Doesn’t matter if it is just a pinch or if it is a punch to the gut or if it is a knife to the heart—love is not perfect if it is perfect. The perfection of love lies in its very imperfections. You can’t just keep asking for someone greater, someone better — if you truly love, then there’s no one else better than him. There will be someone who’s different, sure, but never better. Never greater. Once it’s him, it will always be him. So no, it’s not because you’ll meet someone better, it’s not because you deserve better. Because if you don’t end up with your first love, it’s because you’re this stuck-up bitch who kept asking for more than what he was, who was never contented with what he gave you, who always dreamed of having a Romeo without even thinking for just a fraction of a second that YOU ARE NOT JULIET. Nor are you Cinderella, or Snow White. You could be Sleeping Beauty, because your mind is asleep to the truth that bares itself in front of you, blind to the soul of the boy who tries to give you everything he has, but Sleeping Beauty was stupid, and so are you.

And no — you don’t end up with your first love because he deserves someone with much better grammar than you who can’t even get your Subject-Verb Agreement right and says "we’ll meet someone greater than our first love whom we truly deserves". Look it up online, you, if your brain can even process that much, before you go around complaining about your idea of first loves and why they don't last, because I really think it's you, not him.