Love Changes.

It’s pretty amazing how fast your life changes in a moment’s notice.

I’ve had several friends tell me over the years that I shouldn’t be so sure of the path my life will take because tomorrow it could change. I ignored them because I didn’t think that it could be anything but ordinary for me. Predictable. Lonely.

I was wrong.

That’s how it always is, you know?

Just when you think you’ve got your life figured out, it changes yet again.

I was reading my last entry I made on here. I mused on love and connection and the one person I wanted to be with would probably never come back and I was settling (rather begrudgingly) on living this life solo.

I was wrong.

So, so wrong.

A few days after posting that, he came back into my life. The one that I always prayed would come back to me. He was home on leave and we re-connected and decided to get together.

It was like magic. I saw him and I felt everything fall into place. I just knew that he was supposed to be with me. He’s the only person I ever want to be with, I thought. And on New Year’s we decided that we should make it official. I’ve been in a whirlwind of happiness ever since.

I didn’t think I’d fall in love, let alone be in a relationship with anybody. It’s funny how life changes, eh?

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Love at First Sight.

Question:

Do you believe in love at first sight?

I don’t know if I’ve ever thought about this question too deeply before. I want to believe in love at first sight because who wouldn’t want to look at someone for the first time and think “That is the person I’m going to be with for the rest of my life.”

I’ve certainly been attracted to people. I’ve taken one look at certain people and thought how wonderful it would be to date someone that appeasing to look at. But for all I know, that could be lust. I’m sure other people have been in that situation and can attest to it.

I do believe though that you can feel connected to someone. You can meet someone and know they’re special within the first few minutes of talking to them. Maybe that is what love at first sight is all about, feeling like there is something there. Of course, I think being attracted to someone is the first major step into serious dating relationships. That is what makes us want to go over there to begin with, we find them attractive.

Once, I thought I felt a special connection with someone. I thought it was going to turn into something more. But it didn’t.

So, my answer to this question is this:

I don’t know if there’s love at first sight. It’s highly possible and I want to believe it to be true. But more than likely it’s not and I’m afraid to think that’s it right as it’s not very romantic at all. But I’ll give it the possibility of hope because I’m still a bit of a romantic even as I become a love grinch these past few years.

To write and to feel.

I prefer to write in black pen.

I don’t know why, but it seems more solid and official.

Don’t get me wrong, I like blue pens and I’ve even written in blue pen before, but I prefer to write in black pen.

Black pens seem more official, you know? And there seems to be more of them around. If I started writing in blue pen, I’d have to keep that blue pen around because if I sat it down and lost it, chances are I wouldn’t pick up another blue pen, it’d be a different color (most likely black) and it just wouldn’t look the same and I’d be bugged about it and eventually throw the paper away and end up writing it all in black pen anyway. I’m just that type of person.

Also, I prefer pens over pencils. When I was a kid, it was the other way around. When I was a kid, pens felt weird in my hands and didn’t seem to write smooth. Not only that, I could erase more easily with a pencil. Obviously.

These days, I avoid writing with a pencil. The led always lines the side of my hand and I’m not even left handed. Maybe I press too hard, maybe I sweat too much when I write. A combination of the two. Who knows. I just prefer pen. Because you can’t really smear pen, can you? Unless you’re writing with an inkwell and feather. That’s just weird to me. A nice aesthetic, but weird.

I’ve been in solitude for a while now. Don’t ask me why. I just like being in solitude. I prefer solitary activities. I thought I wanted to be more social a while ago but it just depleted me terribly and now I just want to be alone.

What have I been doing?

Listening to YouTube. Reading (a little, but not much, to be honest.) Playing mandolin. Writing a poem a day. Working my designated shifts. The usual.

Trying not to feel lonely.

Everybody has somebody to love. Even if they go for months without speaking to anybody else, they still have that one person to give body warmth to next to the couch. That’s all.

The older you get, the harder it is to date. And I was never good at dating to begin with. I’m mostly good at being single, but when the majority of your friends and acquaintances have significant others, it’s hard not to notice being the odd one out. Nobody wants to their perceived faults to be pointed out.

And nobody wants to help you, you know? They say, “You’ll find someone who will love you!” And when you say “Oh yeah? And do you know of anybody I can go out on a date with?” They say, “No…”

I thought so. Then don’t bring me hope when it doesn’t work. I’ve been on that road a long time ago. I’m in that weird purgatory of enjoying my solitude and hating it at the same time. Don’t destroy me.

Go somewhere else unless you know someone worthy of dating me.

I’m not sure where I was going with this. Just to write. And no, I’m not sad, not really. I just want to find something different.

All the Time.

I think about writing all the time, and yet I don’t always write. Sometimes I can go for weeks and months (even, dare I say–years) without writing. I think it bothers some people that I don’t actively write, that I’m more passive about writing and not making something more of it. But I don’t really care. I don’t always write because I don’t always want to. Nor do I want to share my thoughts or have a lot to say about whatever it is that I’m writing. That’s why my blog posts are so short sometimes–I’ve run out of things to say about it.

I was listening to an Irish vlogger tonight and her accent was real thick. I’ve listened to other Irish tubers and met Irish people in real life and I’ve never had a problem understanding what they were saying. But with this girl I had to sit there and listen to her real close. It made me feel real dumb because I thought I could understand the Irish. Clearly I’m losing touch. Or I’m just not as good as I thought I was, which bites real hard.

Just when you think you’re on top, life comes back thunks you on the head to remind you that you suck.

A Broken Love Story.

“So, Ian — welcome to the graveyard of ambition!”
~David Nicholls, “One Day”

I like a good love story like the rest of them. But unlike the rest of them, I tend to fall in love with the stories that don’t end so happily. One of the main characters dies at the end, or another unavoidable circumstance irrevocably pushes them apart forever. It’s not that I don’t hope for a happily ever after, it’s because it seems to reflect real life so much more than an actual happily ever after.

When I was 19, I had hoped that college would be the defining moment for me in my life. It was, but not how I expected.

You see, I never dated in high school. I was never taken out on a date or asked out to prom or homecoming. I was one of those people in the middle: not quite popular but not quite at the bottom of the cesspool. I was just that average girl that everybody liked but nobody thought about. When it came time for college, I was excited at the prospect of meeting new people: new friends, new mix of guys who might like me enough to take me out on a date.

It didn’t happen.

Well. Kind of. There were a couple of guys interested enough to spend some time with me. Very brief, nothing lasting. Every time I hoped that this time would be different, it wasn’t. They just wanted a couple dates or someone to flirt with.

I decided that the effort was too much and decided to focus on studying instead. It was hard, I don’t think I succeeded in forgetting about dating.

Time passes and feelings change. I’ve come to realize that you don’t always get what you want. What you set out to do changes into a series of disappointments.

I’m not writing this because I want people to feel sorry for me. Nor do I want people to comment with consolation, trying to lift my hopes for a love that’s everlasting. Because sometimes that sort of thing never happens.

I still ache, but I am happy. I am alone; it has become entwined with me. I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if that ever change. I’d probably have a panic attack. I’m too used to having the bed to myself, falling asleep listening to YouTube, and spending the day in my jamis if I want to. Having a boyfriend would mean I’d have go out and do stuff and that’s just…not me anymore, somehow. At least, that’s what I like to tell myself. I’ll still roll with it.

It’s Worth Fighting For.

“What are we holding onto, Sam?”
“That there is some good in this world, Mr. Frodo, and it’s worth fighting for.”

~The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers

The news has become saturated with the horrors of the world. Or maybe it’s always been this way and I just haven’t noticed. Even if it has always been this way, it seems that it floods more continuously without the good to bring us all hope.

When I see people posting articles about the state of the world, I find myself getting depressed by the minute. What is even the purpose of holding on when the world has become some black?

But there is some good in this world.

The sun still shines. The flowers have bloomed. A baby takes his first step. A group of friends sit down for dinner and music.

The rains flood us, but it can’t keep going on forever. The sun peeks out and I breathe in the fresh air. It’s fresh. It’s clean. It’s new.

I am happy in a world of unhappiness and disaster.

And it’s worth fighting for.

Despite the family separations, despite the war and famines, despite the starvation and death and shortages, the sun still rises.

And I want to keep fighting.

The Shallow Reasons for a Relationship

I’m jealous of those who are dating or married. But I’m jealous for the shallow reasons that only a single person could be jealous of.

Things to be jealous of in a relationship:

  • Never lonely.
  • Have someone to watch t.v./movies/YouTube with.
  • Have company in the same room even if you’re doing different things
  • Have someone to wake up to
  • Have someone to hold you
  • Have someone to go out and do things with

Of course you should be in a relationship for more than the superficial reasons. But I wouldn’t know, I’ve never been in one in all the time I’ve been on earth. I’ve been told I’m not missing much, that there’s great things in being single. I know there’s great things to being single; I exhort them daily. I’m grateful. But some have been with their lover for so long that they forget what it’s like to be single. They forget that loneliness can wrap around you, hug you tight and not let go until you’re driven mad with desire. Believe me, it makes you want to go to the first person who pays the slightest attention to you. But don’t. It’s not worth it. Especially if the guy’s a butthole.

It’s been a long time since I’ve last been with someone I thought would turn into something more. And therein lies my problem. It takes me a long time to get over my love interests that almost were, but when there’s been enough time lapse, I’m feeling the tug of loneliness even when I’m certain I don’t want to. It’s a strange feeling to have.

Being single is okay. So is being in a relationship. So is being shallow. But let’s not downplay or exhort each other’s situations.

Maybe.

If you insist.

I don’t know where I was going with this, other than the fact that shallowness is indeed a feeling at times.