I’ve never fallen in love. I’m not sure that I can. At least not in the way that normal people seem to feel it. I’ve never fallen head over heels, never faded completely into someone else, never had my heartbroken nor eaten a pint of Ben and Jerry’s as I cried myself to sleep. I’ve felt butterflies for a moment only to feel them fade.
I’ve never fallen in love.
I’m 25. I’m attractive. I’m smart. I’m funny (…but really, I am). Hell, I’m a freaking TEACHER. I care about people deeply and I think about my friends often. I call home every week and I love my students unconditionally. I have emotions and I like talking about them with people that I know care. My parents were never divorced, my sister is married and I’ve never been abused, assaulted, or attacked by anyone, let alone a man late at night in an alleyway. Yet still. I have never been in love.
Sarah Dessen stories tell me there is something wrong with me. I should have lost it over potato puffs in the cafeteria when I still had a curfew to break. I should have ripped someone’s clothes off in the stacks and drunkenly climbed into their dorm room late at night. I should have called him as the ball dropped or worn his jersey to school or met his parents over an awkward brunch. I should have fallen asleep in the crook of his arm only to awaken with all of my clothes on and his bed still made. I should have at least been late to class.
I feel like I’ve missed my window; like everyone that I date from here on out will be damaged goods. That for them, I’ll be the second relationship, the grown up relationship, the mature one. But for me, they’ll be my first. I want a chance to have my first love. I want to mess up, to get my heartbroken, and to figure out how the hell to pick it up again. I want to lose control and be terrified by commitment and the depth of feeling. I want my friends to miss me, to marvel at my giggling, to tell me that he’s a good one.
I want to say “I love you” and mean it in a way that is different than before. I want to know the difference. I don’t want my first love to be my last.
Despite my parents’ worrying sighs, I rarely feel lonely. My life is filled with wonderful relationships of love and laughter, with both men and women. I don’t sleep around to fill an empty pit of self-loathing that has developed from years of rejection and low confidence. I love myself for my flaws and I love those who are in love. I don’t resent them for their happiness. I’d just like to know what all of the songs are about.
Can it be that some people aren’t made for love?