Member Rara Avis
*psst* I was 22 when I first went out on a date. In high school, I was just glad to hang with my friends. When my friends all went off and found girls, and I was curiously alone, sure, it stung a bit, but I had plenty of other things to occupy my time.
I'm actually glad it wasn't until I was in university that love first hit ... for me, anyway, it's quite obvious I was not ready for that thing we call "love" until that age.
The thing is, it comes when you're *not* actively searching and seeking. It hits you on the side of a head like a snowball, leaving behind some powder and ice, and an incredible feeling of "I've been chosen!" (now what to lob back?)
Of course, the inevitable break-up *is* tough. It's the reason I joined Passions, actually. To try and work through the grief/anger/self-loathing/misanthropy that triggered itself deep inside my gut and flooded my brain like poison for a while.
Now, it's simply melancholy. Sure, I'd like to be friends with this girl again. But to actually go out? God no, we're sooo wrong for each other. It was good that we built our relationship on friendship, but it's too bad that that friendship disintegrated, too, under the pile of half-thoughts and unrequisition that our relationship became.
Of course, the relationship being long-distance didn't help us out, either.
Anyway ... three years later, I'm with someone who ... well, let me put it this way. When I was going through the first relationship, I thought that the reason of love and marriage was to find someone to complete you.
No. What it's about is being able to both remain independent, while, at the same time, being able to form into a bond stronger than anything that happens to you, being able to come together in strength and protection and earth-shaking love. And yet, even while being consumed in that passion, also maintaining an individual sense.
Wow................ that went on *way* too long.
Some 25 Year Old Squirrel Guy Thing
Said if I only could ...