What Love Is Not :: essays research papers fc

When I was Thirteen, I couldnt wait until I was 16 so that I could drive. Once I was sixteen I couldnt wait until I was eighteen. I cute to be considered an adult. When I reached the age of eighteen, I couldnt wait to turn twenty-one. I wanted to be able to drink and gamble, legally. I am now twenty-two years old, and I wish that I could be a child again. I look back and feel that I grew up too quickly. I think the reason that I grew up so quickly, was due to the fact that I was friends with people who were older than myself. And just like the four-year-old male child in the short story Araby by James Joyce, I wanted to be pass judgment by someone older than myself. The young boy from Araby, wanted to be accepted by an older girl who he thought he loved. Although (in reality) the young boy does not truly love this girl he becomes deeply obsessed with her. Which would take a shit cost him his childhood if it werent for his realization.Some people experience their whole lives a nd never discover what love really is. And the young boy from Araby hasnt either. Communication is a vital part of loving someone, and this is something that the young boy cannot do. The young boy demonstrates this when he encounters the older girl who is his so-called love. At last she spoke to me. When she addressed the first words to me I was so confuse that I did not know what to answer (Joyce 28). This shows the boys inability to communicate with the girl. He cannot even hold a simple conversation with the girl. When you love someone you get down to be able to tell someone how you feel, or at least be Williams 2able to communicate how you feel through body language. similar flirting. If you do not, or cannot, let that person know how you feel, it is not called love. It is called an obsession. Most people obsess over things that they cannot have. One thing that the young boy cannot have is the older girl. All he can do is obsess over her. He obsesses over to the point that he is almost stalking her. The boy illustrates this to us every morningEvery morning I lay on the floor in the front parlour watching her door.