FEATURED ESSAY: Te 'Aint' Amo by Nicole Javines

People are misguided by the thought of needing someone - a lover to be specific, in order for us to grow when in reality it is the one that destroys us, kills us emotionally, which is more painful for we stay to be perfectly alive and breathing, yet we are slowly dying inside.

It happens step by step and the "falling part" is the most dangerous. Toxic yet tempting.

For decades and centuries it has developed to be more addictive and destructive, and for quite a long time now, I have obtained knowledge from my experience and so as from the others, that we - well most of, end up at the same page: Game Over.

We deify this idea of "Love", thinking as if it saves and fix. But, did it?

It's as similar as to selling your soul, your everything to the devils. It gives you everything you have ever wanted and wished for until it consumes your all and leave you with nothing but the realization that all of those are just factitious. Fucktitious.

It's extrasensory. 

Extraterritorial. 

Extraterrestrial. 

Extramarital. 

Extramural. 

Extraneous. 

Extravagant. 

It is extraordinary.

Funny how I thought that love is extraordinary when it's everywhere. It's there physically, emotionally, spiritually, unintentionally and yet, it is extraordinary. 

Love is not needed. It is wanted. We, the objects of this oblate spheroid container are just programmed to think as if love from another object of a different blood is a requirement of the soul. And we have to stop thinking that we are dependent to the opposite sex, the same sex. Because we are stronger than we think we are. Our minds are the only ones creating the limits.

Love, love, love. 

All we need isn't love.

But let me tell you one thing: I love you.