Some people may think it’s an ignorant thing to say or think, but I believe that we only fall in love once. If a person can fall in love more than 10 times, then what is so special about it?
Dear One-Time Thing,
I find it appropriate that we continue on the topic of love in the midst of Taurus season. However, I have to disagree with you. I believe that there are a good handful of people out in the world that we have the possibility to fall in love with. Finding these people is so rare, which is why I understand your disbelief. According to my calculations, we probably have the same chances of achieving sainthood as falling in love more than ten times in our life. Honestly, if you fall in love one time, you should call yourself lucky.
After my first heartbreak, I coped in a true college fashion. The shell of a former hopeless romantic functioned through the steady inhalation of a $55 cart of serious lung illness on the weekdays and the cheapest bottle at Gulf on the weekends and I found myself pressed against bathroom stalls with someone I would soon regret. Amongst the string of unmemorable hook ups, I had no idea that one girl would mean so much to me.
If the first girl I fell in love with is sugar, the second one is definitely spice. I’m not talking about the spice that white families lack in cuisine, instead I’m talking about the unpredictably dangerous K2 that you put between your lips and spark up. Our fleeting romantic endeavor was heady and thrilling. I would skip out on dining hall dinners with friends just to talk with her on Facetime a few moments longer. I remember how awkward it would be when she mistakenly proclaimed “I love you” out of habit when our phone conversations ended. My jaw would clench at the accidental profession, not ready to hear those words from another.
When I found out she started talking to her ex-boyfriend again, I didn’t shed a single tear. I probably made an off-color joke that I hope she never hears. Emotionally absent and dull, I never once let my imagination wander to a relationship or something that meant more than the next time I got to stick my tongue in her mouth. Pushing her away, the tension in our relationship shifted. It wasn’t until after she got back with her ex that I realized I loved her, and it wasn’t until months after we ended things that I told her.
This love is so different from the last, but runs just as deep. This former fling is one of my best friends and a rarity who truly understands me. Sure, I think her boyfriend is kind of a f*ckwad, but I will definitely be at her wedding smiling as I watch her walk into the forever she was meant to have. My love for her lives on in my loyalty as her friend, just as protective and caring. We are still in each other’s lives, but I am no longer afraid to say “I love you” when I hang up the phone and mean it.