Unlike other people, my idea of a romantic film does not constitute cheesy rom-coms or Christmas specials. At least not in 2005, when I couldn’t wait to watch King Kong (the one with Naomi Watts) during the Christmas holidays.

If you don’t know the story of Kong, it’s about a giant gorilla who falls in love with this blonde showgirl Ann (a human, obvs). I’ll let Wikipedia do a better job rather than killing it here. The reason I wanted to watch it though, was not because of the romance…. I was more interested in the CGI, the special effects, and the reviews helped. The fact that it was 3 hours long was more enticing than demotivating, because throughout the entire film sitting in the cinema, I was awestruck and even more blown away by how good every detail on the screen was.

At that time, I was dating someone who was into the film as much as I was. He was probably the first guy I had met who was way more mature than me, in terms of ambition, in how he presented himself, and in how he treated people… despite us being the same age. I later found out that this was the case because he had a harder upbringing than my privileged one. We met at an event, where he clearly took an interest in me by being a gentleman and I just shrug him off as any other guy. Little did I know that he pursued me for a while via emails and calls, on the pretext of attending certain events with friends, and would I be interested in going. I was so clueless that I didn’t catch on, until one day he mustered up the courage and just asked me out.

He wasn’t my type, to be honest. He was the ‘wrong’ religion. He was bald. Yes, I was superficial. But he was so well-spoken. Cute. And he was so ‘westernized’ in that he seemed to look past the ‘religion issue’. He also seemed to treat women with respect, not like the frat guys that I avoided like the plague. He was also very much into self-help, fitness, eating right, had great friends, had his own liberal views and opinions, he even had a mentor - I figured I really had nothing to lose by going on a date with him, I could definitely be a better person hanging out with him.

Three months into dating him, I was in love. And he felt the same. He even was the first to say it. We would spend hours huddled up in the car, heater up in full blast in that cold Canadian winter, just making out like teenagers and never wanting the night to end.

So of course I was excited to watch King Kong with him. During the skating rink scene in Central Park, he held my hand and I squeezed it hard, putting my head on his shoulder. A lot of things with this man was the first. Holding hands during a movie. Laughing at the exact time. Shushing other people in the dark. Isn’t that what love is? You just get each other. Towards the end of the movie, we were both rooting for Kong… never mind Ann’s human boyfriend. Towards the end of the movie, when Kong has finally found Ann, and tries to rescue her and take her to safety by climbing the top of the Empire State Building, my heart was having palpitations. And then when the planes started shooting at Kong, but he held on making sure she’s safe first, my heart started breaking. My eyes welled up and I tried to stop the tears, but I couldn't help it. Poor Kong. They just kept shooting at him and then he finally fell.

My date turned towards me, and saw me crying. And then he had this big smile on his face. And instead of laughing at me, he just took my hand and hugged me and kissed me. But the silent tears wouldn’t stop and I kept on crying for CGI Kong. I kept on saying, please don’t hurt him, he’s hurting. But the special effects wizards clearly didn’t listen, and they made sure he fell to a spectacular visual effects death worthy of a couple of Academy Awards.

He gave it his all for his love, in the only way he knew how, and he still lost. How can love be rewarded with bullets and guns? Is it because he’s a giant and doesn’t look like society’s idea of love on two legs? He kept her safe. He loved her. I’m sure he’d even call her when he said he would, if they gave him a phone! They both loved each other, on a level that transcends species. Despite reading all the greatest romance tragedies and knowing full well the fallacies of romantic reciprocal love AND unrequited love, a CGI giant gorilla’s “unacceptable depth of love” simply reduced me to tears.

I suppose this is why a lot of my images I create deal with unrequited/unfulfilled love - I relate to it so well. Sometimes, I feel this is all I know - how to love, knowing full well there’s a higher chance it won’t be returned at the level that I hope for.

Sometimes I feel that I’ve been seeking love for so long that I have become the master in giving it - I get attached so fast, I perceive potential in a way that it’s a literal walk in the park to give love. I was stroking one of my cat’s head the other day, and he just closed his eyes, raised his head ever so slightly, and just lapped it up. His face was completely at peace, and just to see him basking in my love was enough to make my heart full. It is enough to convince me now that loving someone is the easiest part of a relationship, because if you’re open to love, the best way to express it is by giving it. My only problem is that it falls in the unconditional category sometimes, to the ones not ready for it in the receiving end. Which brings us to the second part of my epiphany - not all of us are masters in receiving love. To actually acknowledge, accept, and embrace love and be on the receiving end of it, is hard work. It takes work. So much work. It is effort, because it is something you have to actually execute - accept, embrace, keep. Are we even taught this concept like how we are taught to brush our teeth? You cannot just catch love from someone, and bottle it away. That is not how love is.. contained. Is love’s purpose itself not to spread? Are we ever taught to just keep it still? Even when we are in a relationship with someone, love evolves constantly, even if subtly, depending where it is at, what time it is expressed, and who is lucky enough to be subjected to. Love is such a variable, fleeting commodity that there is absolutely no time for it to be received AND to stay in its place for a while, despite it being in abundant supply.

The guy I was seeing during my King Kong film era days - he dumped me after a month. In a twist of fate, he said it was due to “religious reasons”.

I took a while to get over that breakup, simply because it was one of the most wholesome, loving, intense and beautiful relationship I have had, for a very short time. I tried to find the same connection for a while after that, and I thought I had found that when I was getting married - but we know how that panned out, didn’t it?! haha

And love is love is love is love is love is love is love is love; cannot be killed or swept aside. - Lin-Manuel Miranda.

I suppose love is forever hovering over us, in secret and reducing us to tears. Love isn’t going anywhere. It is inside of us, but sometimes it may leave our person (the one who we think should stay with us), but maybe that’s the case because it’s meant to be transferred to another soul who probably needs it more. That is the only reasoning I can think of why it doesn’t stay, when I love a person and he doesn’t love me back. So maybe when it leaves us, rather than getting all emotional about it for the loss of love, we should look at it as ‘see you another time when I need it the most’. I just wish I could grasp and accept this concept in a loving, acceptable way, instead of being all doom and gloom about it.

I am in such a conundrum. I have years and years of luggage full of love, and while subjecting my poor cats to it currently is a great distraction, I have to figure out what I’m going to do with all the excess baggage that I’ve since acquired.

I either have to learn to convert it to a more practical, acceptable form of self-expression that doesn’t scare someone away, but considering I have been trying that for a while now with no avail, I feel I have to defer to the other option: I really, really.. I really have to learn how to unlove someone.