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The opposite of love is hate. Love is a four-letter word, but so is hate. They both have two vowels, and they both have two consonants. Aside from that, love and hate seemingly have nothing in common. Ironic, considering that love eventually evolves into hate. You get an A, you love your teacher. You get a D, you hate your teacher. It is a very simple cycle: you love, you get hurt, you suffer, you hate. I am currently in a love/hate relationship with the idea of love.

There is a lot to hate about love. Love is less like a Cinderella story and more like a Kardashian-Humphries train wreck, and the fairy tale endings of Disney movies and the Prince Charmings are nonexistent. Cupid has become the poster child for disappointment. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind receiving a box of chocolates and a bouquet of roses this Valentine’s Day, but just like love, chocolate—and the 10 pounds you gain from consuming it all—eventually leaves you hating yourself. I will be the first to admit that I hate just about everything I once adored. I fell in love with Northwestern; I got cold, hard rejected. Now, not only do I consider purple the most horrific color but also Chicago is the most awful city in the US. I once loved the CHS mascot, but then a coyote brutally massacred my Cavalier King Charles Spaniel. It’s only natural that I despise the creature. I just don’t trust love anymore. Time and time again, it has lead me to tears, so I find it near impossible to love anything anymore. Love and I are going through a bit of a rough patch at the moment.

But, no matter how many ups and downs love and I have, rejection happens—plain and simple. Heartbreak is inevitable when you wear your heart on your sleeve. However, rather than moping around, wasting energy loathing everything I’ve ever loved, I will learn from the pain I have experienced these past few months. As senior year comes to an end, I have less time to get caught up on the little struggles in life. I will live day-to-day, awaiting the surprises and adventures around every corner.

With all the love struggles I’ve been through lately I may not be struck with Cupid’s arrow this year, but…Roses are red, violets are blue, if I have a bad Valentine’s Day, why should you?

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