Stupid Love.
Falling in Love with Roselynne wasn’t hard.
She can sing, play the guitar, tell stories and jokes, and has a personality more infections that the black plague. Not to mention her genuine smile, the way her long hair frames her face and accentuates the small of her back, and her undeniable, irrefutable beauty.
All of her features; her long, thin fingers, her flowing hair, her delicate lips, all acted in counterpoint to the masculine way she speaks, walks, gestures, and generally presents herself. The contradiction added a humor to her; a perpetual punch line that brought a smile to everyone’s face.
She is impossible to ignore. She loves to drive in fast cars with stick shifts and hum along to the engine shifting gears. Her face lights up with child-like joy when she sees ice cream. She is impeccable with accents and impressions. She can eat more pho with rare steak and tendon than three grown men combined. She is allergic to more types of food than anyone I know, but whenever she sees something she is allergic to, she holds it up and asks, “Wanna see a cool trick?” Roselynne is full of loveable quirks that I can’t wait to discover and learn.
Falling in love with Roselynne was not only easy. It was almost involuntary. I never stood a chance.
--
As involuntary as it was, it was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me.
I have always hated the phrase “Where is your better half?” As if you were never, and will never be complete without another person. I hate this concept because I pride myself on my ability and desire to be independent, self-sufficient, self-motivated, and generally complete. However, with her, I truly feel like I am better around her. I feel happier, cleverer, more talkative and more optimistic. I feel like the sky is always blue, and every cloud has a silver lining.
When she is gone, even for a short period of time, I feel incomplete and lonely. When something interesting happens, I look next to me for her to see how she will react to it, only to find that she is not there. When I wake up in the morning to roll over to an empty pillow, the shock that she is not there hits me full force.
I try and convince myself that I am still complete. I think to myself, “Remember when you never missed anyone? Remember when you were complete and invincible?“ Now I am soft, vulnerable and in love.
Stupid love.
I wouldn’t trade it for the world.
She can sing, play the guitar, tell stories and jokes, and has a personality more infections that the black plague. Not to mention her genuine smile, the way her long hair frames her face and accentuates the small of her back, and her undeniable, irrefutable beauty.
All of her features; her long, thin fingers, her flowing hair, her delicate lips, all acted in counterpoint to the masculine way she speaks, walks, gestures, and generally presents herself. The contradiction added a humor to her; a perpetual punch line that brought a smile to everyone’s face.
She is impossible to ignore. She loves to drive in fast cars with stick shifts and hum along to the engine shifting gears. Her face lights up with child-like joy when she sees ice cream. She is impeccable with accents and impressions. She can eat more pho with rare steak and tendon than three grown men combined. She is allergic to more types of food than anyone I know, but whenever she sees something she is allergic to, she holds it up and asks, “Wanna see a cool trick?” Roselynne is full of loveable quirks that I can’t wait to discover and learn.
Falling in love with Roselynne was not only easy. It was almost involuntary. I never stood a chance.
--
As involuntary as it was, it was one of the scariest things that has ever happened to me.
I have always hated the phrase “Where is your better half?” As if you were never, and will never be complete without another person. I hate this concept because I pride myself on my ability and desire to be independent, self-sufficient, self-motivated, and generally complete. However, with her, I truly feel like I am better around her. I feel happier, cleverer, more talkative and more optimistic. I feel like the sky is always blue, and every cloud has a silver lining.
When she is gone, even for a short period of time, I feel incomplete and lonely. When something interesting happens, I look next to me for her to see how she will react to it, only to find that she is not there. When I wake up in the morning to roll over to an empty pillow, the shock that she is not there hits me full force.
I try and convince myself that I am still complete. I think to myself, “Remember when you never missed anyone? Remember when you were complete and invincible?“ Now I am soft, vulnerable and in love.
Stupid love.
I wouldn’t trade it for the world.