Butterflies are free

I rarely write when I am happy. I feel the need to preserve my feelings instead of sharing them, because I cannot believe I deserve the happiness that I find. I started this post last week when I really thought I was too happy to be true. I should’ve known that I have an uncanny ability to be right about these things.

Without giving you too many details, I will tell you now that heartbreak number 4 has finally happened. If someone had asked me last year, “S, do you think you can see four boys come into your life and change the way you see things?” I had just about had enough with one. Good lord. That one still takes my breath away. So, to answer that imaginary question, I would have laughed you off, shut the door behind me and gone back to stressing about the number of days left to go home after another dreadful semester.

Remember what I said about charmers? Stay away from them.
Charm (n.) – Often disarming. Conversation starter.

I don’t know how this works, really. But, I guess we can safely say my socks were charmed right off. The right things were said and the blushes were placed at the end of the sentences like punctuation. The story of The First Date (and my first real date ever, really) was told and re-told dramatically over and over again to induce the sighing and the aww-ing at the right places. But, I was still skeptical.

Yesterday, when I figured that it wouldn’t be going anywhere after the first date, I didn’t know what else to do but smile, nod and step aside. Very few people get a chance at people they’re in love with, and knowing that someone wanted to pick between you and someone they’re in love with can be very flattering. Or at least, that’s the way most people wished to see it.

It also reminded me of this Goldie Hawn movie that I used to watch very often on TV. I guess I was somewhere between the blind guy and her. Haha, I wish. My life should be an endless number of meet-cutes where everyone is in love with me and then goes off on their own adventures after a brief one with me. I dream so much.

But, you know what really stayed with me? I am not the only one making the effort. I am not the only one who could possibly like myself (and I don’t even like myself very much). That is one of the most comforting thoughts to have when your eyesight blurs with the tears you cry in front of your computer at work. So, all that BS they say about not knowing who is probably falling in love with your smile is probably real.For two seconds, it will feel just like that. I promise.

Till the next time I can get myself to make the effort to dress up, wear my lipstick, flip my hair and adjust my top for a boy — I will just get back to work and try really hard to not think of my Sunshine.

Clouds up, ladies and gents.

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