#I wanted to title this: what is love... bby don hurt meeeh

[sohelish]

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Another philosophical discussion passed in a glimpse, touching various topics while heating up here and there. Even Helena had to admit that it was tough to keep calm. Humans, she got used to navigating as it was a matter of survival since the early days. However, one could wound her pride and cause her blood to boil. Aliens were surprisingly worse when it came to discussions of a personal nature. One would assume they'd be more courteous and accepting of differences since it was on the nose - comparing humanoids to each other, especially in terms of social norms, was such a wasteful endeavour. Yet, some people were just intrusive, inquisitive and pried into the area of undeniably private. But Helena was always so "easygoing" and open-minded. Why wouldn't she share? What started as a series of mild inquiries grew into a drilling interrogation, trespassing on dangerous topics: connection, marriage… love.

At first, she had kept her cool, operating under the assumption that she wasn't being judged. Merely prodded for a better understanding of the nuisances. But as the conversation grew longer and her companion refused to stray from the original line of questioning, she started to suspect particular implications. Then, she did the unthinkable. She stated that she would, in fact, never get married. In her opinion, she committed a type of crime and uttered a lie, too definite at that. Actually, she didn't exclude the possibility of needing to acquire a spouse for whatever reason. Her little experiment revealed the truth: a cold, condescending glare, mouth tensing and forming a thin line. Traces of anger in the clenched jaw of her companion were a prelude to a lecture of a distinct length. A long and infuriating course on the responsibility she held towards humanity, the galaxy itself. The importance of social and communal, and the greatness of the term she oh-so-dreaded. Love.

Just like that, the dialogue was over, and it became a one-person show Hel didn't ask for. Although to be fair, she did suffer a tiny pang of regret at the provocation. She didn't even mean those words, after all. And she got a reaction, alright. The rest of the evening turned sour as the woman struggled to counter the arguments with utmost politeness and tact, challenging herself not to raise her voice over a certain level octave. Strangely, the other person, usually calm and collected, wasn't as restrained. Had the nerve to sound openly bitter and condescending. As if she was a foolish child putting the universe at risk with her stance. As if she wasn't applying herself in a proper manner.

The woman couldn't remember when she was this exhausted last. And the only thing that stopped the torture was a promise to consider the other's point of view. That, and also, she was quick. Jumped out of the chair and ran with a spring in her step as soon as she saw an opening. She was as diplomatic as she could've been in not offending her company. She was sure this discrepancy would be forgiven.

Hours later, in her private room, Hel couldn't help but take up meditating yet again. More often than not, she lacked the necessary time or was too tired and mistakenly fell asleep, succumbing to a different type of relaxation. But sleep rarely brought her peace of mind, and all be damned, she needed it. Deeply affected by the point of view of the other person, she struggled to reflect on everything that happened. She would expect all she'd heard from a fellow human, not from an alien. The sudden pain of misunderstanding, the harsh hit to her pride, the failure to accept her life choices…

'I define what my love is.' She muttered a mantra, refusing to give up. 'I define what my love is. It's not the same for everyone.' Sadly, she almost began to like the person who argued with her that day. That was why it hurt so much more.