Late Night Coffee Musings #2

I’ve always thought it was weird that people could just fall out of love. That they could share their heart and soul with someone, connect with them, and let them go. Doesn’t it hurt? Doesn’t it feel like a small piece of you leaves with them? I mean, I get it. He’s not the One. He’s not right.

But how do they do it?

Maybe it’s because I’ve never been in love. To be quite honest, I’m terrified of ever falling in love. At least, not any time soon. I’ve barely got a grasp on my sanity-adding the highs and lows of falling for someone would fuck me up in a major way.

I’ve had plenty of crushes though. When I scroll through my phone and see their name, it’s like a movie-reel plays behind my eyes. I’m blushing and giggling (later I want to slap myself), pillow talk at sleepovers with my best friends, the excitement and anticipation, standing in front of my closet and thinking, “I wonder what’ll happen today.” It’s a rush, a rollercoaster that never goes down.

But those are crushes.

I write books, and I’ve been told I simulate love almost flawlessly. The nerves, the anticipation, the butterflies-turned-elephants in the tummy. But my fatal flaw- I can’t quite capture heartbreak. I’ve never felt it. My heart’s bruised, but not from love. So how do I write about something I can hardly imagine?

This leads me to the whole point of this ramble. The intimacy, the romance, the connection-that I can understand. What I can’t is how you move on after you lose it. How you pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and think, “Just another day’s work. There are plenty of fish in the sea.” 

Maybe it’s because I’m still a silly, romantic teenager. Despite the sad reality of life that’s revealed to every day I get older, I still wholeheartedly believe in happy endings. In finding your person and just knowing that this is who you want to be with until your old and gray and senile. This is the person who’ll eat the lettuce off your plate because you hate them, who’ll listen to your rant for hours about a snide coworker (even if you know he’s only listening to about 40%), the person who’ll start a family with you, the person you’ll share a bed with and your heart with.

How do you move on from losing the possibility of that?

I don’t understand.

And I hope I never do.

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