That Wish Was Never Granted

Don’t fall in love. Rise with it.
Amit Abraham

It’s a terrible feeling when you first fall in love. Your mind gets completely taken over, you can’t function properly anymore. The world turns into a dream place, nothing seems real. you forget your keys, no one seems to be talking English and even if they are you don’t care as you can’t hear what they’re saying anyway, and it doesn’t matter since you’re not really there.

Things you cared about before don’t seem to matter anymore and things you didn’t think you cared about suddenly do. I must become a brilliant cook, I don’t want to waste time seeing my friends when I could be with him (her), I feel no sympathy for all those people in India killed by an earthquake last night; what is the matter with me? It’s a kind of hell, but you feel like you’re in heaven.

Even your body goes out of control; you can’t eat; you don’t sleep properly: your legs turn to jelly as you’re not sure where the floor is anymore. You have butterflies permanently, not only in your tummy but all over your body – your hands, your shoulders, your chest, your eyes; everything’s just a jangling mess of nerve endings tingling with fire. It makes you feel so alive and yet its like being suffocated. You don’t seem to be able to see or hear anything real anymore. Its like people are speaking to you through treacle.

And so you stay in your cozy place with him (her), the place that only you two understand. Occasionally you’re forced to come up for air by your biggest enemy, “Real Life”, so you do the minimum then head back down under your love blanket for more, knowing it’s uncomfortable but compulsory.

And then, once you think you’ve got him (her), the panic sets in. What if I blow it; say the wrong thing? What if he (she) meets someone better than me? Perhaps he (she) doesn’t feel the same; maybe this is all in my head and this is just a quick fling.  He (she) says he loves me; yes, well, we can all say words, can’t we? Perhaps he’s (she’s) just being polite.

Of course you do your best to keep all this to yourself, you don’t want him (her) to think you’re a neurotic nutcase, but now when he’s (she’s) away doing “Real Life”, it’s agony; your mind won’t leave you alone; it tortures you and examines your every moment spent together, pointing out how stupid you’ve been to allow yourself to get this carried away; how insane you are to imagine someone would feel like that about you. From “Birthday Girls” by Anabell Giles

Nothing I have experienced is as confusing and difficult, yet wonderfully inspiring as romantic love.  My maturity sinks to that of an inexperienced teenager when love is raining on me. I sweat, fumble and don’t know what to say, yet relish every uncomfortable moment.  My old heart is tattered and shows cracks where the broken parts have been put back together, but love is stronger than fear.  No matter how much I have at times wished to be unable to feel it any longer, I am deeply grateful that wish was never granted.  I am glad to know love.

Sweetheart, darling, dearest,
it was funny to think that these endearments,
which used to sound exceedingly sentimental in movies and books,
now held great importance, simple but true verbal affirmations
of how they felt for each other. They were words only the heart
could hear and understand, words that could impart
entire pentameter sonnets in their few, short syllables.
E. A. Bucchianeri