Perfect example: “Once on This Island”.  Or “Romeo and Juliet”.  Both of this shows were the penultimate of romance when I was younger.  I bawled at the end of both of them, desperately hoping that ONE DAY, I would know love as true as was written in these stories.

Years later, I look at them and think, “That’s the stupidest fucking thing I’ve ever heard of.  You killed yourself?  OVER A MAN?!”

We’re shaped by many things: society, family, growth-hormones in the chicken and beef, and occasionally, mood-altering drugs.  As we grow older, our ideas of what defines “love” are bound to change.

Sometimes, our ideas are actually molded by experiences in our own lives, with our own loves.  Things that seemed vital to “love” when we were 17 don’t seem so important when we’re 20.  And when we’re 25, we laugh at what we held as standard in our tender 20 year old hearts.

We’re often this way with food, too.  Same thing.  You couldn’t even pop a bag of popcorn around me when I was younger, but now the movie theatre doesn’t seem complete without a jumbo tub between us, extra salt and extra butter.  Our tastebuds change.  They refine themselves.  So do our hearts.

I think it’s incredibly important to never say “never” when it comes to judging others’ relationships.  Because you don’t know what shape you’ll be in ten years.  You may have been a staunch square, but years of wind and rain could have rounded you out into an oval.  And with even more time, you may be changed more.  In fact, I’ve come to hope for change, for growth.

Just think: what was your favorite color ten years ago?  How did you wear your hair?  When you went to the vending machine, what did you choose?  Are any of those the same now?

(A very vague vent, by Sarah Brown)