When I was a little girl, like most little girls, I couldn't wait to find my Prince Charming and ride off into the sunset together. I dreamt of a boy who would take me away from my small town to discover all my wildest dreams. Not until later did I realize that the only person who could reveal and reach my wildest dreams was myself. I grew older and it began to register with me that boys do not ride horses, or wear capes and crowns, and they certainly did not want to help me discover all my wildest dreams. They were sarcastic and rude, and disrespectful, and they were more interested in my body than my brain. Minus a select few, who I kept as close friends, but even sometimes... they pissed me off, too.

One evening, on New Year's Eve, actually... I was at my friend's apartment for that typical college kid NYE party, it was past midnight. It was probably 1:30 am before he even walked through the door. But when he did.... I was in my pajamas, with my hair in a bun, playing beer pong in a room full of boys. If you thought this was a romantic, perfect, love story.. think again. I was wasted. He sat across the room from me for a while. I couldn't take my eyes off him, but he'd only give me the occasional glance. He knew me. I knew him. He used to flirt with me on Facebook Messanger all through high school, though we'd never formally met. So when the boys he was talking to brought up my name, I drunkenly walked over to him, sat on his lap, looked at the boys and said, "yeah, I sent him my first nude."

The rest is history. Talk about a love story. I honestly can't believe he even wanted to see me again after that night. But I thank God he did, and now I thank God for him every day, and that is my choice. Love is a choice.

Sure, at the beginning it's a feeling. It's butterflies every time you see him, and romantic dates, and passion through the roof. But after a while, it's not. Those feelings fade. Soon it's waking up with nasty morning breath and kissing him anyway. It's not seeing him for weeks because you're both too busy. It's something you wake up every day and fight to keep alive.

So maybe next time you're asked, 'is love a feeling or a choice?' by your weird psych professor who really needs a mint, you'll remember my story and know the answer. You'll understand that the way your boyfriend taps his foot when he's nervous is sweet now, but in half a year, you'll actually want to chop it off if he taps it one more time... but you won't. You'll remember when you thought it was sweet, and you'll remember how sweet he is, and you still won't believe he still loves you even after you puked your guts out the night you guys met. You'll consciously choose to love him every day. And he will do the same for you. That's what love is.

And yeah, I'm grabbing him some Five Guys.