move on

Life, as it were, should be about moving forward. In theory that is. I have created so many problems in my life due to indifference. Luckily I am fighting through most of that bullshit.

The one unfortunate thing is, I have reverted back to school girl infatuation. I forgot how liking (not loving) somebody can take me to such extremes emotionally. Which makes me wonder, have I really been in love. I've experienced things I would call love, but is it really?

How do I know if I love somebody? That I'm attracted to him physically? That I can't sleep until I talk to him every night? That I'm willing to spend my time to cook and clean for him instead of doing things for myself? That I want to have a family with him, and thinks that he will make a good father to my child? That I'm fascinated by his intellect? That I just want to hold him and tell him everything will be alright? (note: none of them has embodied all of the above)

Everyone I know that has met him has told me that he is not worth my time. I began to concur. And then I learn two more things about him. Maybe I'm reading too much in between the lines. But there is one thing. I forget that people my age comes with a certain amount of damage. Even I've been thrown around a few times. We come into this place with a certain amount of expectations and hang ups. We often put certain ideals on a pedestal. We often want the next one that comes along to embody that certain chracteristic. But why? It will only remind me of what I had, what could have been, and most importantly, what went wrong.

Love, as it were, is the most painful and time consuming thing in my life. I don't love Love, I hate Love. And I can't live without it. It's some sort of gross addiction. It is painful and glorious at the same time.

But all of these opinions will go away as soon as he wraps his arms around me and tell me everything will be all right.

Oh well, it's just one of those rainy mornings I guess.