Summer love and Love

So she’s just a friend now. A funny, smart, reasonable, curious, cool, stylish, hot, gorgeous friend.

LOL. Ya, wasn’t easy.

While we were still seeing each other, a good friend asked me, “Doesn’t it hurt knowing it’ll be over so soon?” This same friend also said to me, “You always get the meaningful relationships.” I might be wrong, but perhaps there’s some correlation here.

On our last day together, I had told her that I don’t get heartbroken easily. I was trying to explain why I’m so willing to completely let go and free fall into love, and I thought it was because I don’t get hurt, so there’s nothing to be afraid of. From my contemplation these last few days though, I don’t really think that’s true. I probably get hurt as much as anyone else. And I have been. The difference is that, to me, it’s worth all the heartache.

Now, we all know there are two kinds of love. There’s the love that keeps a married couple together for a lifetime—that mutual understanding, trust, and care that withstands mortgage payments, rebellious teenagers and seductive secretaries.

When I talk about free falling and such, I’m talking about the other kind of love. In 9th grade, when I first started to fall in love, I asked myself, “What is love? And how would I know I’m in love?” Love is so illogical, you can’t quantitatively assess it’s presence with a system of measures or a checklist. For something so firmly based in emotion, all you can go by is emotion: if I feel I’m in love, then I am in love.

Have you ever felt it?

It’s kind of like a fever…you feel warm, or even hot, but you shiver. The heat comes in waves, starting from somewhere in your chest, emanating out to the rest of your body. They spread from the inside out, to the surface of your skin, down through the tips of your fingers and toes. And as you embrace one another, your arms around her, her arms around you, and wherever else the two of you meet, the waves that come from the deepest parts of your hearts crash together in a storm of emotions. You can’t help but shiver from the turmoil of it all.

Or sometimes it feels like you’re floating. You close your eyes, everything feels light, and you think to yourself, “If I were to open my eyes right now, would I see clouds beneath my feet?”

The heartbreak I felt really becomes nothing compared to all the memories I have of her, of us. Of all the late-night phone calls, of ugly nicknames, of switching between Chinese and English, of flirting secretly in our class, of all the fun dates we had in this beautiful city.

Destiny wasn’t even generous enough to give us an entire summer; we met July 9th, and she left August 23rd. Not even two months. While it wouldn’t be impossible to continue our relationship, it would be unwise, given where we are in our lives. All we could do was make the most of our time together.

We did.

The REAL POINT of all this is, as Darius said, living for the moment.

You want your Cinderella story? Then make it happen. Did Cinderella sit around her house feeling sorry for herself?! No! she got her rear in gear, did her chores, put on a fly dress with matchin’ fly heels, got her hair did, and went to the royal ball to turn some heads!

When Cinderella had to bone out suddenly at the stroke of midnight, leaving Prince Charming with no phone number, what did he do? Did he just forget about it? No! He did a kingdom-wide search for the woman with the glass slipper who danced into his heart that night.

Don’t be an emo crybaby hopeless romantic. If you find something special, go for it. Be a hopeFUL romantic.