Finding Neverland

This could be it: the things that fools write about love. That fluttering within the very pit of your stomach and the airy feeling emanating from places inside you can not exactly pinpoint. The strangeness, the fear and the ecstasy rolled into an unknown and unnamed emotion no philosopher can ever comprehend. Those things are all true.

Teenagers say that they are not too young to know what love is. Simple enough to explain: you’ve got chemistry, physics and geometry, how can you not get something as easy to understand as L-O-V-E? Sorry kids, you’re wrong. Your notion of what that trite emotion is all about is still immature and superficial; you’re still at a stage where curiosity and infatuation overshadows real feelings and which will lead you into places and situations that will compromise your future.

I know for a fact that, because of my arrogance and this belief that I see more and know more, I have led myself into the belief that I am purely, honestly, head to toe and no doubt about it crazy over this “lower than sub-cool” guy, even when the truth was that I just found in him the things that I wanted to find in myself. He was more of like a kindred spirit, a brother in the same faith…a long lost nerd-brother.

The Tristan-Isolde, Romeo-Juliet, Mark Anthony-Cleopatra and Ibarra-Maria Clara thing is completely not the type of connection we ever had or ought to have. We were more of a Dawson-Pacey kind of thing. That explains it.

Now, I can say all these without even feeling guilty about anything that I say, because I know that I am actually telling the truth. I am not inventing this “I’m letting go”-shit anymore, it’s the freakin’ real deal. I didn’t go into psycho-therapy or got enrolled in Pilates, I just found someone who saw the best in me and realized (cue music: Feels Like Home ;p) that I’ve found something in him that makes me feel real.

I can’t go into all that crappy, sappy things that people say when they get married, it’s corny and for crying out loud I am just twenty-two years old, it’s not like I’ve lost my mind already. But I got to say that he makes me feel human, that I am not an emotionless sociopathic-creep walking and talking like a normal person even when I am not. That I can cry and laugh again without worrying about what other people would say.

He makes me feel wanted and accepted; that despite of my insecurities about myself, he sees more and beyond my flaws. Sure he makes fun of me, but he does so in good nature and instead of being offensive, he taught me how to laugh at myself again.

I haven’t written for a long time, so this is an achievement. One sentence is a baby step, a paragraph is two and a page is at least a leap, so ten cheers for me. But beyond that, I am glad that after a long time, my first one is something about him, about me and about us. I don’t say it often, I don’t even say it first, but I’d like him to know that whatever it is that he is feeling for me, I am also feeling it for him. Redundant and corny, but undoubtedly true. XOXO – Karen 052008

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