Love is a strange emotion. What’s even more strange is that I’m writing about love now; Valentine’s Day was almost a month ago. But I think love falls under the umbrella of Murphy’s Law: If it’s going to happen, it will happen when you least expect it and when it’s the most inconvenient. Although that hasn’t always been the case for me, personally. Love has always been a huge mystery to me. I’ve never really bought into the idea of the handsome prince saving the princess from her locked tower. I was more the heroine in most of my childhood daydreams. I had my own villages and things to save. Ain’t nobdy got time to wait for no prince! I kind of assumed that love would just end up happening when it happened.
Honestly, I never gave it much thought until middle school, in my sixth-grade band class, when I had my first real crush: a nerdy looking saxophone player who had dyed his hair to in a sort of spotted pattern that reminded me of Bambi. I was 12. I had no standards yet. So, what did I do? I went up and asked the boy if he would be my boyfriend. (Once again, I was 12, and I understand now the completely ridiculous nature of that question.) That answer was no.
Ah, rejection. At our first meeting, no less. A few days later, the boy asked out another girl in the class. She told me during social studies that he would never date a girl like me — no offense or anything.
The harshness of middle schoolers is remarkable, isn’t it?
I feel that both middle school and high school left few unscathed, but being a fat, awkward, straight-A student, that time was especially unenjoyable when it came to finding a boyfriend.
I really didn’t blossom until I went to college — which helped, but somehow those old scars from high school always got in the way. Something in the back of my mind that just always said “out of your league” or “you aren’t good enough for that.”
For some reason, this year I’ve decided to completely ignore those voices in my head and really try out the dating game. I find dating exhausting, personally. A complete and utter horse and pony show to make someone like you is the most bizzare thing that we do as a society.
Some guys go over the top with chivalry, some don’t practice it at all. Some are clingers and some are completely uninvolved. I haven’t quite figured out the right equation of traits I want a potential boyfriend to have — although I’m in the process of learning about a new companion who I think does (finally).
The real question I think people should ask is, “Can people just like each other because they do?” Also, “Is breaking up with someone so bad?”
The answer to the first is yes. I think any couple can just like each other because they do. I’m this way. No amount of money or flair is going to make me like you. One of my favorite quotes is “When he offered her the world she said, ‘I have my own.’” I feel that’s where I am in my life at the moment. I don’t need things given to me; I have them.
Learn about me instead. That’s what makes people like you in the first place: being attentive and getting to know them. If it doesn’t work out, well, onward and upward.
That brings me to the second question, and I feel like the answer is no. A lot of people give a lot of weight to breakups. Why? I’m not really sure. I think we have all had that one devastating breakup, but why was it so devastating? Time wasted? Love lost? Sometimes things just don’t work out. It’s just the harsh reality of life. Most people equate a break-up with failure; I equate it with two people who just weren’t compatible. It happens, but it’s not the end of the world. Pick yourself up and keep going, otherwise your female and probably male friends will end up really not enjoying your company.
Fear and rejection aside, my idea of love hasn’t changed. I really do think it will happen when it’s time, and honestly, I’m in no rush. I think most people need to slow down their love affairs with each other, anyway. I watched a few of my friends get married young. Not that I think they missed out on anything, but I that if I had been on the same trajectory, I would have.
So for now, I’m content on love finding me instead of the other way around.