Shakespeare never prepared me for the trauma and tragedy
of love.
Romeo and Juliet never seemed to suffer as much as
I did.
I remember bawling my eyes out when their sacrifices led to
unnecessary waste.
But I don’t remember ever imagining that that could happen to
me too.
Never in my theatre-loving dramatist’s heart did I imagine
that my sacrifices for you would amount to
wasted effort.
If music be the food of love, I’d want nothing to do with it,
not anymore.
Orsino and his greedy heart were lucky enough to experience only
superficial lust.
Because the truth is you never know how badly it hurts until
it’s over.
And once you taste its bitter twang, addiction and
the cravings for it cement itself
in you.
Love is merely a madness, a disease making us into
mad animals.
So I’ve learnt not to go hunting for it, lest I catch
the sickness.
Midsummer madness
The course of true love never did run smooth
and yet we risk our lives to travel down this uneven path,
gambling for a chance
at success — filling our lives with
Such sweet sorrow.
Love is a game skewed in favour of
the cheaters.
So I’ve learnt to sit out love
Because after all,
you can’t lose a game if you don’t play the game.
*Words in italics are taken from plays written by William Shakespeare*
