For the last year, give or take, I have been very skeptical of love. I have been a non-believer. Jaded. Completely bitter and kind of obnoxious to be around. I have been witness to too many men acting like utter pigs. Sex hungry, non-emotional, lying, cheating, scoundrels. I have been witness to cheating, flirty, unhappy, emotionally psychotic females. I’ve heard stories about men cheating on women, and girls cheating on boys. I’ve almost been those stories. The little slices of pure happiness I had seen didn’t expel all of the horror, uncertainty & turmoils. Sadly. and, to be honest, I outwardly gave up on real, true, genuine love.
In the back of my mind I had a minuscule glimmer of hope. A tiny ember that might one day catch a spark. If Mr. Too-Good-To-Be-True-Yet-Is-Somehow-Real ever decided to come along. But, I didn’t think that would ever happen. I didn’t think someone would ever make me believe again.
So, here I sit, dumfounded.
A huge hypocrite.
A girl with so many feelings, her fingers can’t move quick enough across the keyboard.
I am not going to say I found the right guy. I’m not going to assume I have found a good guy. I’m just going to say that I have been talking to someone who makes me re-think everything I have felt for the last year. He makes me regret every “it’s not real.” Every “boys don’t think like girls.” Every “it’s just not in the cards for me.” Everything my mom has told me would happen for me, everything she’s hoped would happen for me,( everything I’d ever hoped would happen for myself) has been flashing before my eyes. In the short span of 6-weeks, I’ve grown to believe again. Believe that out there somewhere, there might actually be someone who looks at me and sees his future wife holding his babies in the kitchen, with crazy hair & lipgloss in her teeth. Who doesn’t only want a girl around for his pleasure. Who might actually put in a little effort, and understand that passion isn’t a lost art form. Who understands kisses without tongue are important, too. Who isn’t sleeping around. Who isn’t even dating around, or entertaining other girls, simply because I can’t be there. Who sends me songs & tells me they remind him of me. Who has a house. & a good job. and plans for his future that he thinks about fitting me into. Even after this crazy short period of time. Which I have always said was stupid. I believe.
It’s scary. It’s embarrassing. & I can’t believe I’m putting it in black and white. That I “met” someone who makes me second guess everything I’ve stood for for a long time. That I might actually believe the words tumbling out of a dude’s mouth. That all men aren’t scum. That maybe I’ll finally have a real boyfriend again. A faithful, funny, sweet one. Could it be?
Time will tell.