Those Darn Fairy Tales, or Is It Supposed to Hurt This Much?

I need to make some things clear before I begin.  1) This post is obviously not about dance, so if you’re looking for a dance post, check my archives.  2) I debated or not whether to write about this, and publish it for potentially anyone to see, even the two people at my school that are ever-eager to play matchmaker.  3) Highly personal posts like this tend to appear when I’m experiencing something very emotional.  For example, I wrote a similar post soon after seeing the movie Schindler’s List for the first time.  4) From my experiences with blogging, most people are caring and compassionate, so I decided to go out on a limb here.  5) This is going to be heavy and long.  6) Since this is a public blog, I’m going to give as little detail as possible, but still try to get what needs to said out there.

If you’ll remember, I recently wrote a post explaining why I’d been absent for almost a week.  In my final reason, I cited “love”.  Now, this could have meant anything.  It could have meant family, friends, or even pets.  After all, the word love is used quite liberally these days.  Well, I’m here to lay all my cards out on the table.

For the first time in my life, I find that I’ve genuinely fallen in love.  It was rather unmistakable because I’ve had so many crushes in my short lifespan that when this came along it was just…starkly different.  Honestly, I can’t explain it, but I can explain what drew me to him.  Just to get this out of the way, it always starts with a visual, something about their appearance that just draws you towards him or her.  I say all this to say, he was (and still is) very handsome.  Second, he’s intelligent, and I find this very, very attractive.  His intelligence bends toward the philosophical, much like myself, and I really enjoy the way he expresses himself.  In high school, most of my male classmates were, um, not as articulate as he was.  That, and I shared a sisterly relationship with the other more articulate gentlemen.  So, this was something new.  Third, he’s much more reserved than I am.  Nothing more to say on this particular point save to say that I reluctantly concede that opposites do seem to attract.  Fourth, I adore his natural smile and laugh.  My own natural smile and laugh seems to have been misplaced sometime during my teenage years, so I don’t really enjoy doing those things myself as much as seeing other people’s smiles and laughter.  His smile and laugh lights up his face, and it lights up my heart as well.  What was that line from that Gershwin number?  “The way your smile just beams…”  Finally, he’s kind and polite.  I’m not a close friend, but I do consider myself his friend despite this.  He treats me as friends should treat one another.

But, I noticed something immediately as soon as I recognized this kind of love.  Put simply, it wasn’t anything like the fairy tales I had been reared on.  The longing that’s associated with love was painful, certainly not the longing for that’s accompanied by fields of flowers and singing animals.  No, an absence from him caused me pain, and being in his presence remedied it to an extent.  As I kind of settled into a new, emotional routine, I discovered that my initial discovery was only the tip of the iceberg.  I had no idea how he felt about me, and I still don’t.  This scares the crap (read: again a euphemism) out of me.  When I worked up the courage, I told me parents.  Mom gave me a piece of advice that I had often read about before this all happened: Loving somebody means letting him/her go.  I think this means that you’re not willing to cling to him/her.  You love him/her enough to put their happiness before yours.  If it just so happens you aren’t a part of the picture, then you resolve to be happy for them as best you can and eventually try to move on.

Now I sort of see love like a sword.  It’s extremely powerful, but also extremely dangerous.  You can’t hold on too it to hard, or you might cut yourself, either in the process of loving or in the process of healing a broken heart.  If love is like a sword, then you’re handing it to the person you love.  What are they going to do with it?  That’s the scariest question of all because it doesn’t just apply to romantic love.

I don’t really know where to go from here.  My vocal cords tend to close up whenever he’s near.  And as tempting as my foolish heart makes it, I am not going to follow him from room to room, or even seek him out.  I guess that means loving him from a distance is the general plan for now.  I guess, what I’m really trying to say is, I hope this doesn’t hurt too much.  I hope this event comes to its conclusion with my heart relatively intact.


The floor is yours now.

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