Wednesday, July 13, 2016

In the Age Old Game of Love

Just before a work day started, I scribbled something on my note pad, half-poem, half-prose, or whatever you choose to call it, and lost the draft after. It was something about being rejected goods, me, that is, in the age old game of love.

I was never much a high-achiever, being more laidback, the stroller who smells the flowers, instead of reaching for the stars. This is reflected in my income earning, although, I am more than comfortable in my financial state. Perhaps it was all in the moment, but I would never know, when something small happened to trigger the memory of that draft. There was a slight dip in esteem. For not being seen an attractive proposition for the ladies in the age old game of love.

Months later, I was to, out of the blue, come to another point in my life. Or perhaps, it was there all along inside, only to raise up over the grinding of time.

It was through a conversation with a rather close friend, who has made a habit of airing grievances about his wife. True to my philosophy, I've always advised him to compromise in the name of love. "Love is giving unconditionally. Love is sacrifice," I preached, a café my church. My point was since his wife is able to accept all his flaws in her sacrifice, can't he accept hers? It was then that I realised, despite all my flaws - and I have no small amount! -  it is just that I have not meet the one who love me enough, who make that sacrifice. The reason wanes for that instance of low esteem. It is only imperative to remind myself, at this point of writing, to continuously improve myself as a person. On another hand, it is perhaps myself who is not willing to make that sacrifice. I know, it all seems so elemental. But to practice what one preaches is two different matters. So this is food for my thought.  

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