"When you fall in love, you'll know it." I've lived my entire life hearing words such as those. And while I'm sure it's true to a certain extent, I'm here to say that it's a load of bull. Love is supposed to hit you like a ton of bricks, but to be honest, so does "like." I know. That sounds ridiculous, but it's true. People don't realize that there are different degrees to liking someone. I've interacted with guys whom I've liked on a variety of levels. One was nice, but boring. Another had a big mouth. Another? A smoker. And yes, people have flaws, but what about them made me refuse to overlook those flaws? No matter what I did, or how sweet they were to me; for some reason, something wasn't going right. And then I met one guy and we just clicked. Yes, yes, I've talked about this before. You can read all about my wonderful past relationships here. But, it's true. I was drawn to him. So much so, that I called it love. He said it first, of course. I'm not about that making the move life, even though I should probably get better at it. But the thing is, when he said it, it felt right. I was like "Okay! Yay! Me too!" Because how couldn't it be? Everything he did was wonderful. He was wonderful. My life was wonderful because he was in it. I wasn't embarrassed to hold his hand in public. Well, yes I was, but not enough to stop me. All of those disgusting couple things that I had promised myself I would never do were suddenly the only things I ever did.
We were living on our very own cloud nine. We had known each other for about two months, and had only been dating for about two weeks, but it was love. Thats right. You read that right. Two weeks. And my normally perfectly rational self would have called that poppycock. I doubt he could even spell my last name, but he's saying he loves me? And I'm saying it back? We hadn't even had our first fight! But it was love. I knew it, because he could say something completely stupid and I wouldn't cringe in agony and disgust. It had been two weeks and we were talking about forever. Because time is relative. I knew it was forever, and so did he—how could any two people be happier than we were? We were beyond compatible. Loving him more than hit me like a ton of bricks. Those bricks crushed me flat, and I lied there happily, enjoying the weight.
There was only one problem: We weren't actually in love.There is a fine line between love and like, and instead of treading it carefully, we skipped happily into "moving too fast" territory. I would like to say that I should have known better, but how could I? I've never been in love before. Heck, I had barely been in like. How would I know what I'm looking for? I didn't. That was another problem. I wasn't looking for anything. I had no idea what I wanted, so I convinced myself that he was exactly that. No guy will ever be able to make me as happy as I made myself when I was with him. Just the idea of him was more than enough for me. The fact that he loved me and wanted to share himself with me was more than enough for me to throw my worries to the wind. And for the record, he was a pretty great guy. And no, he didn't say it to take advantage of me. I have a very firm belief that sex should be saved for after marriage, and he was very well aware of that fact. We had just tricked ourselves into thinking that the other was perfect. And that was great for a while. But then our flaws started showing through the cracks of the very shaky foundation we had laid for one another.
We were completely and totally infatuated. When we weren't texting, we were together. He called me before I went to bed to tell me how much he cared, and wish good dreams upon me. I talked about him. A lot. I almost feel bad about how much my friends had to endure. And my roommates? Forget about it. He was over all the time, They didn't seem to care too much, but we probably made them sick. And I was sick, too. My illness couldn't be cured, though. I was so into him that no one and nothing would have been able to keep us apart. I think that part of the reason that I thought it was love was because I had never actually felt before. Now. I'm no serial killer; I've got plenty of feelings, but with him, everything was amplified. Being happy with him was the best kind of high I could get. Being sad because of him, though, was the worst. I broke my own heart on a daily basis just worrying about him. I have shed more tears over that boy than I will ever admit. And I let it happen over and over again. because I thought I was in love and that was what was supposed to happen.
It made sense. If my happy feelings were amplified, why wouldn't my sad ones be, as well? I figured that's just what love was like. But he wasn't the same. Yes I made him happy, but I didn't have the power to upset him. And for some petty reason, after a while, that started to upset me. I began to doubt his feelings and his loyalty. It was hard on the both of us. I knew. I refused to admit that it wasn't love. Because if that's not love, then what is? If i can't be happy with this amazing person who I care so deeply about, how will I ever be happy? And if i couldn't even trust myself, how was I ever supposed to trust him? But I convinced myself I did. And in some way I did. I would still trust him with my life. And maybe even my heart. But I no longer trusted my own feelings. Our relationship blew up in a big, messy explosion. I finally got him to admit that he didn't know if he ever loved me, and instead of the relief i was expecting, the only thing I could feel was a dull, hollow ache. I had been amplifying my feelings for so long, that I had worn myself out. Yes, I was upset. But I was more upset about my own inability to love than I was with anything else. Everything had been so perfect and it should have worked out, but it didn't. And that's life, and I'm growing up, and I guess this was a part of it. It was a painful part, and obviously I have some regrets over some things, but I refuse to believe that this was not for the best.
Once broken, a bone becomes stronger. I'll be that way too. We're just two kids who got carried away, and there's nothing wrong with that. This is a learning experience and a chance for me to grow. I was recently told that the opposite of love is not hate; it's use. I will never use someone as a tool to fulfill my own happiness again. He deserved more than that and so did I, and hopefully one day we can both find exactly what we want. Until that day comes, I am more than happy to work on myself; because before I get to know someone else, I need to know myself.
