It all started with a crush.
His crush. Of course.
Because crushes are irrational,
And I am a rational being.
I AM NOT--according to Freud,
Reason, desire, and appetite.
I AM NOT the desire to love or be loved.
I AM NOT the appetite for companionship.
I am, solely, reason. Or so I thought.
But rather, I was HIS reason.
His reason for being so shy.
For waiting 4 months to ask a simple question.
For asking my friends if I were seeing someone.
For blushing every time I asked "How are you?"
For posting on fb "anyone down to chill?"
For continuing to try to ask me out even after saying no…
On 5 different occasions.
But on that sixth try… there was no reason.
No reason for me to say yes, but every reason in the world to say no.
But without reason, I gave him a shot.
"Enjoy the beginning," they say.
"Live in the moment."
How do I enjoy this state of being we've fallen into?
How do I enjoy his hand intertwined with mine?
His sweet caressing that puts me at such ease.
His light kiss on my forehead that extinguishes every fear, every worry; that makes me feel utterly protected.
His quick squeeze that reminds me that he'll always be there.
His deep stare that's empty of all judgments and criticisms.
How do I enjoy his presence?
That presence that puts a smile on my face
That eases my anxiety,
Relaxes my muscles,
Makes me unclench my fist,
Breaks down my walls,
Softens my tone,
Brings out my warmth,
And makes me utterly and completely happy.
That gives that feeling of lo-… wait, no.
I promised and swore.
I scout's honored...
"I, Krystina Curry, scout's honor to never fall in love again."
Yet, even in such a perfect state, those thoughts linger…
My imagination can still get the best of me.
I can imagine his hand in hers.
I can imagine him turning his cheek,
And pressing his lips to hers.
I can imagine this moment dissipating, and fading away.
I can imagine his interest fluttering away,
Just like the others.
So easy to just pick up and go,
To pick the next one to come along.
The 'better' one.
I can imagine myself falling back,
Into that hole I've come to know all too well.
Those waves of insecurities start to come crashing down,
Breaking my bones,
Making me gasp for air,
Desperate for that sense of security and comfortability.
Something so good never lasts long. Enough, at least.
And I know this fact all too well.
Rough, first draft.