Wednesday, January 4, 2012
We fear failure and disappointment.
We fear pain and torture.
We fear the uknown and the unexplained.
We fear love.
While not all of us fear love, most do. By that I mean the subconscious repulsion we sometimes feel when we are drawn to another soul. The fear that we might become attached makes us want to run away, to push off, to hide. The fear of being destroyed, our hearts ripped apart makes us want to be alone, to feel nothing, to build walls never to be scaled.
It was not until today that I learned the term Philophobia; the abnormal, unwarranted and persistent fear of falling in love. It is a psychological condition by which someone cannot or will not be drawn emotionally close to others. It may begin as an extreme reaction to a broken heart, a bitter divorce, or an abusive relationship, but then can lead to generalized anti-social behaviour where the sufferer isolates him/herself from close relationships, including family and friends.
I remember when I built my walls, protecting my heart, to heal it and rebuild it. I closed off. I turned to instant gratification, pleasure without emotion. I spiraled into a vortex of superficial happiness, masking the deeper shades of my pain. But something odd occurred; I became a heart breaker! The pleasures that I sought turned into swords of torture to others. I felt their pain, their anguish. I was a vampire feeding off their bleeding hearts in order to heal my own. I did not do this conscioussly mind you, I was in a feeding frenzy, eyes shut and mind euphoric as I gorged.
I awoke from my stupor and surveyed the aftermath of my gluttonous feast. I heard cries and witnessed pain. I stood on red soaked ground and gazed upon a lanscape stained by dying hearts. Intense guilt coarsed through me, pouring out of my eyes, and flooding my cheeks. It was then and only then that my heart was ready once more. I ceased all motion, frozen in time, contemplating the irony of it all.
I felt pain and feared love; I caused pain to love again.