Toronto Metropolitan University's Independent Student Newspaper Since 1967

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Bitter and twisted: March 8, 1995

By Pete Nowak

Love isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. It makes you lose your sense of self. It makes you do stupid things. It shits all over you in the end.

Love has done me some physical harm. It has nearly gotten me thrown in jail. It’s gotten me into fights and nearly killed me. It’s even landed me in the hospital, where a doctor operated on me with rubber gloves. But despite the damage love can do to your body, it’s how it can fuck up your mind that we need to worry about the most.

Love has made me a lonely and angry person. And not because of anything I have done. “This “purest of virtues” has taken my friends from me. One of them, whom we’ll call George, told me a few months ago that he wouldn’t be able to associate with me anymore. Why? Because his girlfriend didn’t like me. I listened to her when she told him to turn his back on his best friend. He listened to love. Words could not describe how hurt and angry this made me. Recently, he dumped his girlfriend and lo, and behold, he came crawling back begging forgiveness. I forgave him, but deep down inside, I know I will never be able to trust him again.

Another of my close friends, whom we’ll call Fred, left his friends, his family and even his country. He took off to Denmark for good. And for what? For love. Oh, he claimed he had given his decision a lot of thought, but the reality is he has thrown his life away. And like that Peter Cetera song, he did it all for the glory of love.

Anyone who thinks this kind of stuff is romantic should be writing lyrics for Bryan Adams. This isn’t romantic. This is tragic.

If I know anything about love, it’s this: Fred will be back. And the sooner he comes back, the better. He’s still young and might be able to correct the mistakes he has made, but the longer this goes on, so the worse it will be for him.

And as for myself, I’m still in shock and disbelief over what this most “sacred” of emotions is capable of. I’ve seen what it has done to my parents, making an alcoholic of my father and a nervous wreck of my mother. Their marriage, as do many nowadays, ended up on the rocks. Successful marriages are now the exception, not the rule, indicating that true love is rare. I’m at a loss to explain why this happens and I won’t even begin to try to understand. However, one thing I do know is that love is bullshit and I want no part of it.

If love is forgetting your friends and those that are important to you, forget it. If love is about hurting those that rely on you the most, forget it. If love is about fucking up your life, forget it. Count me out. Give me a six-pack and a hooker on Friday night and I’ll be content for the rest of my days. But for those of you that do believe in love, do me and the world a favour: don’t have kids.

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