How ironic it is for me to sing "Beautiful Love", or all other love songs that I belt out in the shower on a frequent rotational basis, when I have never been in a relationship before.
Hearing this song makes me feel so lonely; books are my only companions that I cling on to tightly whenever I am walking aimlessly on the streets and in shopping malls, for the pursuit of a semblance of knowledge gives me a sense of self-worth when all else fails.
Perhaps I am never destined to find love, and I will just wither on the shelf with the passing of time. I am not even sure I am entitled to love, for I take many things for granted and have no hesitation to throw them all away in moments of crazed recklessness.