I’ve been thinking a lot about falling in love recently. Currently my Spotify playlist contains the songs ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’ and ‘Living On a Dream’, as well as a literal crap ton of country music and sappy pop songs.
Falling in love, has not been a topic on my mind because I’ve bumped into my elusive prince charming in the grocery store or something, but because of my inability to even contemplate the idea of young teenage love.
I have no trouble believing in the ‘You’re good enough, lets have kids and take out a mortgage on a house thats not quite right’, type of love. That sort of love seems much easier to believe in.
It’s this reckless, brave, and wild love that is supposed to be the drug of my generation, I can’t quite accept the idea of.
I’m just not that brave. Or that reckless.
I sometimes want to be.
I want to be the girl that doesn’t have to break eye contact because her stomach drops. The girl that stutters and stops halfway through a sentence because she knows she’s talking to fast. The girl that is always moving, even if its unintentionally, away from the other person.
The girl whose first intention is not to run as fast as she can, away from the person she could probably learn to love, before she gets trapped.
It’s not my fault that it takes time for me to learn to not flinch at somebodies touch. It’s not my fault I would never reach out to touch the other person first. It’s not my fault I think through all the possible outcomes of the situation until I find the most likely, most boring, most painful one, and decide that is the only outcome possible.
So maybe I’ll just stick to my sappy love songs and short stories.
But one day, I hope I will meet someone, just like in the songs, who takes the time to let me run, then come back again.