That moment when you see someone and you just know that he was guided there by an unknown force, so he'd meet you. Whatever happened to those alleged butterflies and goosebumps? To those secret glances across the room, to those spectacular first conversations? I don't wish for anything else but to get that rush of attraction, to feel that foreign force drawing me to someone new.
I have been giving this a lot of thought lately, I was just tossing and tumbling in bed for days instead of falling asleep because I couldn’t help but wonder, whether these magical moments only happen until you are fallible, naive and still, well, susceptible to blind love? I remember those tingly butterflies, from back in the day. I was addicted to them. However, for over a year now, they seem to either avoid me or they were only the manifestation of my gullibility and juvenility?
I remember my most intense one, so vividly as it was yesterday. I remember it lasting for months, those were the happiest and most excruciating months of my whole and entire life. He was just so intimate with me and still unreachable. It felt like we lived in two different planets and occasionally when the stars lined up for our favor, we had the opportunity to be each other’s for a few fleeting hours of passion and pleasure. Those goddamn butterflies just made everything look all shiny and new, his alleged emotions, which in retrospect were actually professed, felt like real ones, his glimpses seemed to be filled with emotions, his kisses were sweeter than honey and sugar mixed together and wrapped in cotton candy. Those goosebumps blinded me from the bitter-sweet truth and turned every aspect of my life into a fucking chick flick. I have been asking myself whether I would erase these distorted but dazzling memories if I had the chance...if I wanted to be utterly honest with myself I would not, but if I wanted to be a tiny bit gullible again I would, in a heartbeat. Not because they aren't one of my most treasured memorabilias, but due to the unshakeable thought that they might be the cause of my pretty accurate sense of rationality. After my cotton candy world got eaten up by ants, I came a step closer to the true and dark side of those tingly moments. They work better than any drug ever invented, they alter your sense of reality more effectively than any artificial substance.
Am I the bitter old lady across the street swearing off love and men? Or am I just someone who has been given so much pain and shit that her pink colored glasses got shattered into billions of pieces? When we are little, we are told to never stop believing in the mysterious magic called love. Though with time, we are finding ourselves in the vicinity of the truth, and as close as we get the more skeptical we become.
I do wanna keep believing, I am desperate to be proven wrong. Although how can we get that tingling feeling back, when we doubt every word that leaves the next prince's mouth? Is our generation too well informed for love or should we just simply reboot our emotions?
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