I met my second big crush when I was in the 6th grade. Again a very dark haired boy, this time with the bluest eyes ever. Fatherless, a bit damaged, it seemed like a nice pattern to follow. I went to social studies gatherings and sang in the choir just to spend time with him. I drove my best friend crazy by talking on and on about him, dragging her for endless walks by his block just hoping to run into him. It went on for a while, and by then the love songs, which of course were about us, had started to be bitter sweet. I was already discovering how confusing young love could be, but still happily crippled my emotions all over again.
After a string of small, poetic flings, that kept my hyper heart busy enough, I decided to give another piece of me for keeps. What started as friendship and gratitude to
My latest discovery is that you can become oblivious even to the Theme Song of your life. Rollercoasters do stop running eventually, and neither heavenly nor heartbreaking songs last forever, even if they temporarily tell Your story.
Now for the first time in almost two decades, all the love songs are happy again. It is easier when they're not about anyone. Just like loving, that is easier with nobody to love.