There’s an old Chinese folktale about an invisible red thread that connects those who are destined to meet, regardless of time, place, or circumstance. The thread may stretch or tangle, but it will never break. I’ve questioned this story ever since I was a small child. How did the string know whose fingers to tie itself to? Why didn’t the string break? And what about the people who never found the person on the other end of the string? There were so many things that didn’t add up.

Hollywood is bursting from the seams with stories of love at first sight, and one only needs to give a cursory glance through a library to see all the books about living happily after. Disney paints riveting, fantastical images of true love despite all odds. But is it really that arbitrary, or for that matter, that neat and prepackaged? For the longest time, I thought our society’s obsession with love was ridiculous.

Until I fell in love.

I went through all those little phases Hollywood tries so hard to market to us everyday. Little fits of jealousy with friends, constant readjustments to your reflection in the lunch line, fantasizing in math class - haven’t we all been through this process at some point? Life was a tumultuous rollercoaster, full of ups and downs that occasionally sent butterflies flying in my stomach.

My ending was more complicated, culminating in a sleepless night that reminded me once again how vastly different real life is from our preconceived notions of love. But now, I can cross my fingers and hope that maybe I will find someone who understands and accepts my quirks and idiosyncrasies, and won’t be afraid to share theirs in return. In the meantime, I’ll settle for staying away from scissors.