Two thousand and eleven gifted me with sleepier eyes, sadder lips and the promise of a new beginning. I felt artistic, unsure. The days seemed no different from the many before and tomorrow seemed so distant. But it’s already April, we’re a quarter of the way through the year. Where does the time go?
It’s strange how I want to write about this, because in a way I don’t. A part of me is saying – you’re actually pathetic. But the truth is… I am, right? I’m just sitting in a lecture with five hundred or so other people and my heart is just racing. Pathetic, isn’t it. I mean, after all it’s just some random girl. But there was something about her that made her seem so different to everything else. It was weird because never before in my life have I been attracted to someone without even knowing their name. After all, she was just a little crush from last year, maybe. It was sort of an “oh-look-over-there-it’s-so-and-so” thing. But somehow in a matter of seconds this developed.
The lecture goes on (as it does) for fifty or so minutes in silence. No eye contact, no nothing, none of the scenarios I had in my head played out. And afterwards I was just like. Damn. What if I never talked to her… what if at the end of the semester I never saw her again. Because I knew I would never forgive myself if that happened.
Something like two weeks went by and there was still nothing. I snuck the odd look out the corner of my eye at her sometimes – just to see who she was with, what she was wearing; that sort of thing. I hope that isn’t freaky. Whatever.
Then the day came when she was sitting alone. I hesitated so badly. I think I tripped a little as I started to walk away. But an abrupt “are you going to take a chance or not?” forced me to take a seat next to her. And I remember it felt so amazing. I remember asking here where she was from, what papers she was taking this semester, about her family and all that jazz. She seemed great, perfect perhaps. She had an open mind, a sweet smile and her laugh, wow. Funny thing is that I found out all this stuff about her but I never got her name.
But that night I was cruelly reminded about a lesson I’ve been taught and forgotten many times – the more steps you take, the harder you will fall. And I think I fell at least six stories that night. I think the reason it hit me so hard is that… I had this expectation that it was going to be great and we’d talk more and get to know each other and all that stuff. I had been building up this false image in my head. It was all I had to hold on to. Expectations, I hate them yet I have them. Expectations and comparisons are just abstract, but I hate them so fucking much. They cause nothing but pain. Just. Fuck.
The thing about expectations it that you can try to overlook them but you can never deny that they are there. The expectations placed upon me and the expectations I place upon myself hurt me because when they are not met I feel like I have failed myself. I don’t care how people view me. I think what I need to understand is that I can’t change the path of others, but I may change the path I wish to take. Something like finding your significant other should be simple. Because that’s what love is – simple; we (or maybe I) overcomplicate it in our (my) mind(s). I need to learn to let go when I’m holding on, and hold on when I need to let go. You can’t love someone just by the words you say or the things you do. If you have ever hurt yourself for one you love, only then may you know what love is.
Wow, okay.