This is the story of how I fall in and out of love.
I have fallen in love once. It was beautiful, the kind of love where I invested all my emotions. But then day by day, I am starting to lose the reason why I fell in love with them in the first place. The love I had grew weary and I was not anyway near the place to save myself from losing. I started not to pay attention as much, I started not to care before soon I began to stop loving them. They have changed, their voice, their sound. But I suppose, most of all is that I have changed. I probably have grown older. The era of admiring popular culture without filter had gone. The mechanism behind entertainment industry had flashed out the dirt, I just could not see pass it. I just couldn't love them anymore as they are. I remember the first time I saw them live and how smitten I was, how I thought that was the best day of my life. They were the happiness I was longing for, they symbolised every idea I wanted to believe in. Long ago, if love had a sound, they were it. McFly was how love sounded like to me.
It started from a film, their weird charm as an English band in the midst of cold hearted bowling centre in New York caught my attention. There moment on, I fell almost in the thin line between obsession and admiration. I loved everything about them. Not just their music, they had inspired me to write, to imagine and to dream. They were the one I have invested my early youth in. I fell in love with them out of the naivety, out of the trial on learning how to love, the first times, admiring them for they were. Loving them was easy. I loved them without any standardisation of life, any threshold or criteria. Because I loved them before life happens, before idealism of reality shaped up the way my eyes flickers.
I am now, living one hour drive away from where they are based, plenty of opportunities to see them live, perhaps passed them by the street, and maybe, to have another happiest day of my life, but then I stopped. Today, they are not what make the best day of my life. My idealism has changed, they are no longer representing the objectives I wanted, or wished they could have. This is where I began I wanted, expected something out of them. I no longer love them unconditionally. I have standards, my feelings for them changed. As soon as I got closer to them, I retrieved, decided to say goodbye to the young love I have had. At the back of my head, this is what I fear the most in love; that it grows – it may live and die, too. That I grow, that the other person also grows. How can one stays in love forever if everything is bound to change?
Although every time I see them around, in occasions, just like last night on the telly, the butterflies always come back, briefly.
A piece by : Fiya Muiz