Just today as I was having lunch with a college friend, I acceded that love is not about feelings. It's not about emotions, it's not about Psychology or any other volition shit. It's about hormones. Yep.
Google defines hormone as "a regulatory substance produced in an organism and transported in tissue fluids such as blood or sap to stimulate specific cells or tissues into action."
Love is a complex and inscrutable emotion only because there have been myriad attempts to understand it. If you leave it right where it is, you will save a lot of time in understanding the meaning of a word which doesn't have a proper definition. When we talk of romantic love, the fore-most step is physical attraction. That's right. Very rarely do people fall over folks who are amazing humans who aren't that fortunate looking.
When you share an intimate space with someone, despite not having feelings for them, you start developing a soft corner for them. Eventually, you don't want to accept it, but you fall in love with them. That's oxytocin for you. It is known by many names like- love hormone, love potion or the cuddle hormone.
Being in the pre-final year of college and listening to the ostensible heart wrenching stories, I think I have heard this about a hundred times: I fell in love.
You didn't fell in love accidentally.
You deliberately jumped into it.
I know it pains right now and it looks like there is no way out, but trust me, there is. You aren't in a concentration camp. You will be fine. Moreover, don't feel helpless because you think that they are so deep in your thought processes that it's impossible to imagine life without them. All of it is false.
Be strong. It's a matter of biological functions. What's the best part? You are your controller. You can direct yourself to do amazing things or you can mope around doing nothing. It' all on you.
Do yourself a favor, don't keep scrolling through their Facebook profiles. Delete the goddamn contact so that you don't look at her face on the Whatsapp contact list and have an urge to text her. It will be back to square one.
It will be ok. Just ok.
And remember this:
So while gobbling over Grilled Chicken Sandwich, I admonished my friend to repeat this in her head plenty of times:
"F@%^ you and your shoulders and your sexy bike and your chivalry and your cuteness, you semi-retarded dog!You're a liar and I can manage life without you. You can go around with a hundred other chicks but none of them would know the right usage of prepositions. I will get over you because you're not Batman."
I presented before her the same argument and made her concede to it.
Love is over-rated.