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The Wonderfully Dreadful

June 6, 2012

Our hands were intertwined; my head was on his shoulders. I had never felt so safe ever in my life. We were watching something, in a big lecture hall. He was busy taking down notes with one hand, but the other one was firmly gripping mine. I said something and he smiled and raised my hand to his lips. He bent his head and kissed it, then he looked up at me with a gleaming smile. A wonderful feeling passed through me. I felt so complete – so content; it must have been ultimate bliss.

I let my head fall back onto his shoulders. I closed my eyes and relaxed. This is happiness, I thought to myself.

That was when I woke up, in my bed, thinking, oh crap, it wasn’t real.

Doesn’t it just suck when you wake up from such an amazing dream? This has happened to me countless times. First, I wake up, feeling disappointed. Damn, it wasn’t real. Then, I spend the next hour or two, smiling to myself, while replaying that dream in my head. By the afternoon, I find myself asking, “what’s wrong with me? Why can’t I make that dream become reality?”.

So far, I have had about three or four dreams about this mystery man (or men). The dreams are fantastic; I feel like I’m floating on a cloud. But for some reason, I can never remember his face! I can only remember what happened and especially how I felt in those dreams.

I always wake up so disappointed. You see my readers, I have never been in love before (I may have mentioned this in a previous post). I actually used to confuse love with infatuation growing up. Especially in high school, I would become completely infatuated with some boy, think I’m so incredibly in love, write him a Taylor Swift-esque love song, and then feel as though my heart was shattering to pieces when the boy was clearly interested in someone else. But now, I am very careful about my love. I still get infatuated very easily, but now I know that it ain’t love! Trust me, I used to gush over boys who opened doors for me. I am a sucker for chilvary and the whole Knight-in-Shining-Armour kinda thing. My friends used to joke that I would end up marrying a doorman. Haha, very funny guys.

I remember how back in high school, I had a huge crush on this one guy. On one occasion, we spent an entire day together on a field trip. Afterwards, we bussed back together to one of our local Bus stations. He turned around and gave me a hug. That was when I let it slip, completely by ACCIDENT, “I love you”. After I did that, I didn’t know what to do. How was I supposed to recover from this? Of course, he thought I was just saying it, like I didn’t mean it at all. Back in high school (and still now, I’d imagine), saying “I love you” was no biggie. Everyone said “I love you” to each other. So I guess when I said it, he took it as a “no biggie” as well. So he said “I love you too” back to me. I knew he didn’t mean it in any real way, but as he turned around and left, I thought to myself, what did I just do?

So I guess that was a close call.

I used to write love letters to boys as well, but that was back in middle school. In high school, I mostly just wrote songs and uploaded them up onto Youtube. I think my number one hit was “Hey Benjamin”.

But to tell you the truth, most of the songs I wrote “for boys” weren’t even for any boy in particular; the songs were mostly just about wanting to be in love. I am definitely more in love with the idea of being in love than actually being in love. Honestly, I spent the last two days squirming because I was watching sappy love movies. I caught the second half of “The Wedding Planner” (with Jennifer Lopez and Matthew McConaughey – such a hilarious movie!) and “Two Weeks Notice” (Sandra Bullock and Hugh Grant – also very funny!) on TV. Then today, I watched “Dying Young”, a 1991 movie staring Julia Roberts and Campbell Scott. What a good movie. It was about a dying man (Scott) whose father was enlisting a nurse to take care of his son. Roberts walks in with no background in nursing and is hired by the dying man, despite his father’s disapproval. Soon, Scott falls in love with her and tries to “woo” her. Eventually, she falls in love with him, and yadiyada. You get the rest of the story, the title is called “Dying Young” for goodness sake!

Anyway, the movie made me all gooey inside. It made me think about the power of love – how love overrides everything, even reason. How can it be that nothing else in the world can bring you as many highs and lows as love does? How can it be? Everything can be just so great one minute, and the next, it could all come tumbling down. At least, that’s what I gather from the movies.

I’ve always thought that the first guy I find would be “the one”. That’s because I’ve always thought that it would take a very special out there to like a person like me. Okay, so it sounds like I’m tooting my own horn here, but that’s not what I meant. What I mean is that I am a very particular type of gal. I guess you could say that I am not that “obvious” type that guys go for. I am not exceptionally beautiful, I’m quirky. I do weird things like collect VHS, typewriters, records, and get all excited about the newest fact I just learned. My point is, I am so “out of this world strange” that it will take another “out of this world strange” kinda guy to be really love me. And you know what? I don’t think there are very many “out of this world strange” kinda people out there; we’re sorta outcasts really. So that is why I have arrived at the conclusion that one day, someone will see me for the person I truly am, and really love me for… being me!

And I am excited for that. I get the sense that being in love is like sharing a secret with another person. At least, that’s what it felt like in the dream. I felt like he and I were in on a secret, and no one else had any idea. It was such a wonderful feeling – like it was just us two in the Universe. Oh love, sweet sweet love, how wonderfully dreadful you are!

(Oh, and a sidenote, I also watched this video yesterday. It made me squirm with delight… just a tiny bit.)

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