written on may 16th, 2012
i used to have this bitter and cynical view of love. i blame my age and school location. with everyone around me getting closer to marriage, it only seemed that i was getting further and further away. men had turned into slovenous pigs or spineless jellyfish, and i had no cares for any of them. it seemed as if i would never reach love. i would never find it and i was ok with giving up on it. and then, one day, i fell in love, with love. i became infatuated with the very idea of it. the essence of it. the image. and i became that lovesick, hopeless teenage girl i once was. but i had a deeper appreciation. a fondness. an understanding of the souls being merged into a serious and deep love that went beyond butterflies, quaint kisses, and batting eyelashes.
everyone always tells me that i am the friend. the friend that will only date one more boy and that very boy, i will marry. i will have a romantic, sweep me off my feet love that will whisper to both my brain and my heart, oh there it is. there you are. and whether it is true, or whether it is false, i will see. but i know that the moment a man sees me as a lovely person and only dares leave my presence if his heart would allow such distance, that i will be hopelessly, madly, and passionately in love with him. and i will not know what to do with all the wonder and beauty that will unfold in my life. and it will be the end. and a beginning. but for now, i will wait. and i will hope. and i will stay in love with love, and count my days remaining alone. for it is alone, that i truly began my journey to loving him.
one day.
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