Sunday, February 15, 2009

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways...


Love is love. All, everything that I understand, I understand only because I love. Everything is, everything exists, only because I love. — Leo Tolstoy

It was February 14, 2003. I was not yet 20 years old. Still a teenager in the eyes of the world, and had just become, officially, engaged to be married. To a man (boy, really) that I had known for a whopping 3 months. I think my mom and dad thought I was crazy. Looking back on it now, I think I would have been crazy had I gone through with it. The rocky two months that followed were all I knew of being engaged. We were both young, very foolish, and lacking in life experience. His mother was convinced that I was a minion of Satan, sent to corrupt her first born. I've been asked if I thought I was in love - I don't think I was in love with SHAWN, I think I was in love with what he represented. I was in love with the idea of being in love. Gratefully, I never became a Bluemel (his last name), and moved on to greener pastures.

2 years later, still infatuated with the idea of being in love, I found myself leaving my cozy life in Logan to move back in with my parents, yet again, to pursue another potential fiance. This time I was sure it was for real. He wrote songs and sang them to me, he was an artist, he was sensitive, he had a game plan, he had experienced life. We had a great relationship devoid of any major fundamental flaws, or so I thought. So, when he proposed, I was startled at my inability to say "yes." Driving home, my eyes brimming with tears and my brain puzzling over each minute detail of the evening, I sought an answer for my cryptic behavior. Though we kept dating with the intent of an eventual marriage, I knew that I would likely be moving on again.

My perceptions of love have changed and evolved over the years. My life experience has shaped my views of what love really is, and what I expect out of a relationship. As a newly-engaged 19 year old, I was just perfectly giddy to be wearing a ring on my left hand. As a 25 year old, back on the market again, I realize there's more to life than being a Mrs. I'm quite a bit more picky in my "old age" than I was back then, and I don't hesitate to cut to the chase when things just aren't as they should be. Though I wouldn't mind having a Mr., or an alternative last name, I'm trying to find excitement in the chase.

1 comment:

Tilly said...

You like the chase huh? We need to go out more so you can prowl.