For some reason, or strange divine machination, you found him. Or her. Or them. They had talent. And charisma. Je ne sais quois. That valuable, intangible something. And you were mesmerized, enthralled even.
You decide to support them. To profess a certain level of “love” for them. Come what may, you will be there for them, cheering, sending positive vibes from a thousand miles away and defending them from critics and naysayers.
What happens when your chosen one shows signs of weakness, of mortality?
They stopped winning after years of domination. Cheated on their partner. Left your beloved club/team. Transferred to a rival club/team that you absolutely despise. Media exposed a nasty habit/vice. Still haven’t won a title despite years of trying. Said the wrong thing on social media. It could be one big thing or a thousand, smaller things that piled up.
Disappointment consumes you. Heartbreak of epic proportions. You seriously question your devotion. Maybe you should move on. Maybe you have outgrown them. Maybe it is time to live in reality. Is this what falling out of love feels like?
You stop and think. You remember why you supported them in the first place. You smile. You feel like crying. There were good and bad times. But you wouldn’t trade all those memories for anything in the world. Abandoning them because of their faults won’t make them any lesser beings. It’s all on you.
In the end, you throw all caution to the wind. Get your shit together. You are not a fairweather fan. You are better than that. Who are you to judge? You are not perfect. You know the power of empathy. You chose to love your chosen ones with their weaknesses, not inspite of them.
Chosen ones are not meant to be flawless. Perfection is boring and overrated.
Chosen ones are meant to be fallible. Chosen ones are meant to be human.
Chosen ones are meant to be as real as they can be.
And somehow, even though some things may change, some things (and loves) in your heart will always remain the same.