"When you love someone you just, you... you don't stop. Ever. Even when people roll their eyes or call you crazy. Even then. Especially then." - Ted Mosby
For as long as I can remember I have been a hopeless romantic. I don't know if it is due to all the literature my father had me read growing up, or all the rom-coms I would watch with my mom, but somewhere along the line I became a Ted Mosby. I fell in love too fast and I would convince myself I had feelings for people even if there was truly no spark (hence how I ended up with my ex for two years). I can't help but search for a deeper meaning or question fate every time I meet someone new or when I might feel butterflies about someone. Even when someone comes in and out of my life I assume it must be the fates controlling my life!
I understand that most likely everything is just happenstance but there is something so much more magical and romantic about two people coming back together because their souls and their hearts are so intricately connected that it is something so much greater than the two of them. I know that is so unbelievably cheesy but sometimes cheesy can be sweet.
I am young and I think that plays a huge role in how I hopelessly love, even though I have not only first-hand but plenty of second-hand experiences that should make me cynical and shout how love is dead when I see happy couples.
See, when I was twelve I started seventh grade at a new middle school. I had only made one friend and it was the first day of school. We were in homeroom and I sat in a random seat and I began doing my usual routine of cracking jokes and being the loud person that I am and this guy turns around. Now, in that moment my heart definitely stopped, all it took was for him to look in my eyes and I was done. When I look back on that moment I try to wonder if I overly romanticize my meeting in my head or if that moment was something truly extraordinary.
Fate or serendipity? That is a question I ask myself constantly, especially in regards to the boy that I met on my first day of seventh grade, around six years ago at this point. The realist in me wants to find the answer but the hopeless romantic that I am wants there to be this magical element to falling in love. Maybe being a hopeless romantic is something I will grow out of, but I honestly hope I do not grow out of it. Being a hopeless romantic has helped keep me hopeful even when the world throws its worst at me.