The truth is, I don't understand love. Something so fundamental to human beings, so present in every corner of life, and yet, to me, it remains an unfathomable mystery. I have tried in many ways over the years to make sense of it, but complete understanding always eludes me.
I have spent my entire life learning about countless things: history, science, foreign languages, strategies, but feelings... feelings were the territory I never ventured into. I understand the concept of liking, desire, joy, even the purest and most positive emotions, but when it comes to confronting fear, sadness, anxiety, or frustration, I find myself in a dense fog, where emotions don't seem to follow the rules of reasoning.
Recently, I have come to know frustration up close, just when I thought it wouldn't affect me. The topic of love... That conversation with Yuki not long ago, and what happened with Honami, have made it clear to me that there is much in this world that I still have not learned. Much more than I believed, more than my analytical mind can encompass.
But I wonder, will I ever be able to truly learn to love? Not in theory, not in words, but to feel it with that intensity that others talk about. Will I be able to care for someone unconditionally, just as couples I see in movies or read about in books do? It always seemed so absurd to me... Could I really do something like that? Love someone so much that their flaws fade away and their happiness becomes mine?
I don't know. To me, human beings are fascinating creatures, but difficult to understand. When they fall in love, it seems like they momentarily lose their capacity to reason. Suddenly, logic is relegated, and emotion takes control. Decisions that, in any other context, would seem ridiculous, are now justified in the name of love. It is a strange, unpredictable phenomenon... something that doesn't fit into the order and logic that I value so much.
And yet... something within me awakens a curiosity that I cannot ignore. What do they feel? What drives someone to risk so much for another, without guarantees? I have seen people smile when talking about someone special, and in those moments, there is something in their eyes... something that intrigues me. Is that love? Is that connection what makes the chaos worth it?
Maybe, after all, it's not so absurd. Perhaps I am not that far from understanding it, but until that day comes, I wonder if I will be able to open myself to the emotional world as much as I have opened myself to knowledge.
Maybe love isn't about logic, but about embracing chaos. Perhaps it is a type of learning that cannot be acquired through books or analysis, but through experiences. But will I have the courage to seek it? I don't know. I have spent so much time observing others from a distance that the idea of getting closer, of exposing myself, feels almost overwhelming.
What if I am incapable of feeling it? What if I face that chaos, only to discover that my structured mind cannot bear it? Because love seems to be full of contradictions. It brings peace and, at the same time, can be the cause of the greatest despair. It fills you, but it can also empty you. It unites, but it can also separate.
And despite all this, there is something in me that I cannot ignore. A kind of unknown longing, like a shadow that follows me, reminding me that, even if I don't understand it, love is still there, present in the lives of those around me. Like a distant melody that I cannot decipher but, somehow, I want to hear more closely.
I remember Honami's gaze when she confessed her past to me. The strength in her voice, the contained pain, and that vulnerability she showed while telling what she had hidden for so long. I was surprised by how her companions embraced her. There was no judgment, only acceptance. How can a group of people, each with their own fears and prejudices, react that way? Is that the strength of the bond they share? Of love, perhaps?
Maybe it's not love in the romantic sense, but it is a type of connection, something that unites them beyond words or actions. They didn't let her fall. Her mistake didn't push them away; instead, it drove them to stand by her side. That, in itself, is something powerful.
I wonder if, one day, I will be able to be part of something like that. To stop being a distant observer and allow myself to feel, to belong, to share beyond the superficial. Not just to know someone, but to truly connect, in a deep way. But for that, I would have to take a risk, I would have to let go of control, allow the chaos in.
Am I willing? Can I allow myself to be vulnerable? Because, in the end, maybe love isn't about understanding it. Perhaps I will never do so. Perhaps love is about feeling it, living it, even when it doesn't make sense. To leap without knowing if you will fall or if you will be caught.
I still don't have clear answers, but maybe... maybe it's time to start seeking experiences instead of explanations.
...
Honami had confessed her feelings for me not long ago, something I still haven't been able to fully process. I remember her trembling voice, the words coming out with a mix of nervousness and determination. She looked directly into my eyes, searching for some response, some sign of what I felt. But I didn't know what to say. I fell silent.
It was then that I realized how little I understood about love and about myself. I care for Honami; I deeply respect her. But is that love? Or is it simply admiration? I don't have the answer, and she, by exposing her heart that way, left me more confused than ever. How can I reciprocate if I don't even know what I feel? I want to give her something more than just a simple "thank you" or "I'll think about it," but I don't know if I have anything more to offer.
And then there's the question of the other girls I spend time with. Each of them, in their own way, has left a mark on me. Yuki, with her straightforward and carefree manner, is always challenging me, pushing me to be more than I appear. There's something in her company that relaxes me, even though sometimes I feel that there's a tension I don't fully understand.
With the others... It's the same. Shared moments, exchanged words, laughter... but when I ask myself what I really feel, I can't distinguish if it's simply friendship or something more. Is it possible to have romantic feelings for several people at the same time? Or am I simply projecting what I don't understand about what I see in others?
That brings me back to Honami. She was brave to tell me how she feels. She was honest, as always. But how can I be honest with her if I don't even know what I want? I don't want to hurt her, nor do I want her to think I'm rejecting her, but I also fear telling her something that isn't true. I'm not someone who can improvise in these matters, and the more I think about it, the more I realize that I am not ready to give an answer.
Is that what people call "confusion of the heart"? Is this what happens when one is in the midst of emotions they have never felt before? Maybe. Or maybe I'm just complicating things because I don't have the emotional tools to deal with this.
Still, one thing is clear to me: I don't want to hurt Honami. Not Yuki. Not the others. I need time, but I fear that the time I ask for may be interpreted as indecision or even rejection. I wish I could have a clear answer, but for now, all I have are questions.