Skip this one kids, it will make you sick.
"The heart has it's reasons, whereas, reason knows nothing"
I'm sitting here, entirely unable to concentrate on work- and it's not just the sunshine and the birds that won't stop singing. And it's not just that half of my office and the bosses are at the cub's game. I'm sitting here, for some reason, thinking about that which has dominated my thoughts for the better part of 5 years.
5 years, and it's all been about him. Always a little deeper, and I don't understand.
When I was 13, I used to convince myself that summer when he would bring his guitar over and play the hard parts for us, I would tell myself over and over in bed that night " I cannot possibly have a crush on such an old guy. He'll be in college this fall". And I tried so hard, when highschool started, to remind myself that he was simply mentoring me, and nothing more.
When I was a bit older, riding in his car with him, listening to music too loud, and wasting too much gas to explore the wonders of the next two towns over, I would tell myself, as severely as I possibly could "We are just friends. I am way too young for him. He would never be interested"
When I was older still, and had a serious boyfriend, Him and I would visit church together, and then spend the summer days together afterwords. I would condemn myself. " I have a boyfriend. There could never be an 'us'. He's like my brother"
And, so it went. When a miracle happened, and we became that "us", I kept telling myself that the novelty would wear off. The he would just be another boyfriend. That a permanent future was unlikely. When we got engaged, I kept telling myself that we would be married soon, and I could get those butterflies FINALLY out of my stomach. They never left. They won't leave me alone. I cannot join the rest of the sane world, and I don't understand the boredom and the calm that everyone else seems to feel. I don't understand a passionless existance, and sometimes, and nuts as it sounds, I wish that I could.
For as long as I can remember people around me have been telling me that life is not like exactly what I'm experiancing now. Life is not like the movies. It never is. Why am I not seeing that yet? I've been patiently waiting for life to relax, and I've been waiting to conform to the endless line of normal, relaxed, non-obsessed people out there. But I won't. I see him everyday, and he still makes the breath catch in my throat, and sometimes I wish I didn't care so much. I wish I wasn't so captivated by him. Maybe if I could only act, and think with a little more non-chalance, a little more indifference, I could be normal.
But my life is like a movie. My favorite film, too. I'm hanging onto his every word for years just to find that he's been just as carefully glinging to me. My gaze is drawn, and there he is looking back, and he's captivated by me. I'll never know why. Everything underneath screams that I am not the interesting one in this little pair. Something underneath my heart is pretty damn sure that one day, he'll come to his senses and wonder why he wasted so much time with me. But he hasn't done it yet, and I don't know why. Why, when I reach out, does he reach back? How could he want to inhabit my same space? But he does, and he whispers to me the things that my lips were getting ready to form, and it doesn't make sense, damnit!
I'm complaining because it seems unfair that life should grant me a fairytale. I see around me, everywhere, people complaining about loveless marraiges, and struggling to find desire and passion. I see people struggling and fighting to make it work... and if I could just know for sure. Was I just that unbelieveably lucky? Because if so, I don't deserve it. Or is it only a matter of time before my heart is full of holes too? Everyone tells me something else.
The fire of youth. It must be. After all, I am just so young. But it never feels fleeting. I don't know why I'm not sick of him yet, but I can't wait to see him every night. Nothing makes me more alive, and nothing makes me as bold, and nothing makes me as angry, or as happy, or worry anywhere near as much, and I'm still lost. I don't know where we went wrong, or right as the case may be.
For the moment, or not, I'm on fire. I feel it constantly, and you'd think it would be exhausting. I don't worry about the fights, as intense as they might be, I've never thought of them for more than a day.
There has got to be a God, and he has got to be aware of what's going on. This isn't my doing, because I know myself. I'm selfish and narcissitic, and there is no way that I could care for someone so much all on my own. Whatever force that this universe relies on, it's decided to badger me into this continual desire, and I'd like an explanation please. Now.