Unconditional Love is a lie that you need to get over.
Despite being born on the closing date of the sign, I am a distinct Capricorn. For those not into astrology, I’ll summarise what that entails. I am hard on myself and others, judgemental, methodical and highly organised. I know how to compartmentalise. Decisive. I fall in love easily, and fall out of it even easier: there are no wandering exes in my periphery, as when I’m done with you believe that it’s over. Seeing that I am also Russian, and an introvert on top of that, a jar of my affection is basically as precious as that of beluga caviar (yes, also all the sarcasm).
Still, when I love — I love. I am fiercely committed to all the special people in my life. But the more I contemplate why and how we love the more I come to the conclusion that — other than a Mother’s love for her child — no love can be truly unconditional, even though the Western pop culture has been trying long and hard to convince us otherwise. The stereotypical unlovable grouches (with a heart of gold), or hysterical divas (who are actually vulnerable and kind inside), or macho prom kings who see themselves above it all (only to be smitten with a nerdy girl they’d bullied before) — the list goes on, but the idea these stereotypes pedal is simple: no matter how shitty you are, there will be someone (usually better than you) to fall in love with you nonetheless. That, in turn, feeds…
