Interest is born in curiosity. The idea that we do not know someone, but we wish we did. We do not know the next time we will encounter them, since we are ignorant of their location. We have no form of contact, so each time we see them, this moment seems more joyous than how mundane it is in actuality. We presume it must be fate or lucky coincidence that this person is at the same place we are, rather than all the places they could have been. We wonder when the next time will be that we see them. We wonder if we should approach them and say something, in fear this will be our only opportunity, until the next chance encounter that could be months away. What is it that makes this being so special? So intoxicating? Could this be love at first sight? It feels like we know them when our eyes meet, and though we keep it to ourselves knowing it will sound mad when spoken aloud, we confirm what this electric feeling that jolts our heart as our eyes dance with theirs must mean. They are our soul mate. We may play out scenarios in our head where we are with this person. Where we predict what their reaction would be to a scene if we went to the movies together. What kind of music they listen to in their headphones. What they would say right before we kissed. And it's all these inventive expectations that murder the prospect of love right as we swear it's blooming. It is these false assumptions that our wild imaginations produce that leave us feeling disappointed and saddened in the game of infatuation.
Instead of appreciating someone's beauty and deciding this is enough to want to know their soul, we fear the rejection and instead invent our own background story for who they are, like some character in a video game. We can not customize them physically, but the decisions they make are all up to us. We fall in love with the face and thus fall in love with what we pray lay beneath. We think that such a lovely outer appearance must also be matched with a personality just as charming and suited to our personal desires. But this is often times not the case. Humans are such a complicated species, that we are still unable to truly know a person even if we live with them for twenty years, nevermind make eye contact for a mere few seconds once a week. So why do we do it? Why hype ourselves up about ideas of who we want to love rather than discovering someone who makes us naturally come to realize what love is? We must want love because we find that certain someone we want to share in that experience with, not because we want love itself. Love is nonexistent without another person igniting that feeling within you. It is not up to you to decide you want that feeling and searching for it. Love finds you in its own way and in its own time. Even when you beg it to leave you alone.
It creeps up when the boy you like looks at you with eyes that tell you there is something special that lay between you. Something bigger than when your eyes meet with the both who sits across from you in History. It punches at your chest when the girl you like is approaching from afar, and you start smiling like an idiot, praying you can control yourself before she gets close enough to say hi. It can be quite silly and make fools of us when it actually occurs, much different than the cinematic way we view it in our minds when searching for it.
If we all know the infamous saying "The best things come when you least expect them" why exactly is it we continue to search? Search for that love that everyone seems to want, in strangers who could be entirely incompatible with us? Search for the reasons we feel we are such hopeless cases and our soul has no mate? If love is a beautiful occurrence that happens in its own time, why do we think we can surpass this time frame, and create an even more attractive event on our own schedule? Perhaps in mere minutes. With an attractive stranger. Whose name is unknown. And soul is an utter mystery.
