There are so many kinds of love. So many love stories; bad and good. Still, it is love, is it not? And there are so many times we see destructive love, where people end up hurt in some way. And then it’s suddenly not love anymore. It’s just a destructive relationship. But how do you define love? How do you point to a relationship, and say “that’s not love”. I’m not trying to defend violent relationships, or mentally abusive relationships. Or anything in the category “destructive relationships”. I’m just wondering, if we struggle so much about defining existential questions, it should be a struggle with “love” too. And yes, you may go ahead now and think that I am being a bit weird and depressive. And I am. Because I’ve just spent hours reading a fan fiction. And I know you all think of “fan fiction” as something silly and written by a lone teenager in her pink bedroom. Truth is that these are some future authors out there. Sometimes I think maybe I’m wasting all this time, just reading. But when I feel broken, my eyes are read from crying, and my nose is running. I think, that, yeah, that was time spent well. There are few movies even, that can actually make my gut wrench. And I love sad movies. And I am even scared to admit that some of the fan fiction I have read, are even better than my favorite book, my favorite author. And this is something I’ve been adamant to ignore – because Marian Keyes, she is my queen. At least she used to. I just think that if someone actually manages to write and then make you feel the emotions, then it’s gold. I suppose it’s the same with a song. It’s like when I listen to Daughter, and I just feel angrysadangrysad. God, she has even infiltrated my dreams. I dream of being screwed over, of being cheated on, of being depressed. And I let it happen. I let the sadness seep beneath my skin, because I’m content this way. I’m actually content being sad. And what the fuck? I am so confused over myself. I can’t even figure out myself. And these feelings. I’m happy one minute, and then I’m sad the other. Oh right, happiness and sadness is a state of mind, not a goal. So yeah, maybe it’s normal. But I think I feel way too content being sad. And my best friend did say I’m good at being depressing. I just feel it’s a bit fucked up, isn’t it? This is another bullet point for why I don’t understand how I have friends. Don’t worry. In a minute or two I’ll be fine again, and I’ll make birthday cards and try to write witty things.