Tragic
Dear Diary,
Love. Love brings pain to others, happiness to some. Some never lose their faith in one day finding it, and some do. The meaning of love to different people was different, although it had one thing in common.
But now it has changed. Love is now a terrible word, almost a bad as the f word, and now means when someone was in depression, sadness, anything tragic, really. It was too vague.
It is stupid, I think, because I knew what this word was created to mean. That someone is bound to someone else, with admiration, looking beyond all flaws of the other.
My friend, Lola, is recovering from a tragic injury. Or should I say that she was recovering from love?
It’s funny because before now one would say love is tragic, especially when recovering from a heartbreak. But now love is truly tragic. No one wants to be in love.
What’s weird is that there’s no word replacing love anymore, it just simply is a feeling, a feeling that I couldn’t explain prior to this change, a feeling that no one can explain now. It goes unspoken.
I don’t know how to go about this tragic debacle. Or shall I say lovely debacle? Feelings don’t need to have words, feelings don’t need to placed into words to know how to feel, right?
One now simply says, “I care for you.” Not love you. And over time loves original meaning will be forgotten. Caring for is not the same as loving. Just like squares and rectangles.
I suppose I could attempt to explain to all the townspeople that love is simply not tragic to some, and to others it is. And whoever made you believe otherwise was going through serious heartbreak.
I suppose I would be killed as Galileo, for the elders burnt all books and killed all the people, except for me. Leaving behind little to no evidence of love, of the real love.
This entry will be enough, methinks. No one can bestow their anger on me after I die. The word love, is simply a word to express more than “caring for”, more along the lines of “dying for.”
I guess I’m trying to say I love the original word for love. For now, there is no opposite of hate. Now the highest level of liking someone is caring for another.
This entry means that I’d die for the word love. Meaning that I love it. I hope it is understood. For soon, if this is found while I am still living, I would be executed.
~ Amaris (9/27/2091), Mars