| Taking a big fat emotional dump all over the internet. |
[Dec. 5th, 2009|08:03 pm] |
Hi, Livejournal.
You're pretty much defunct at this point, but I feel that one day when I reflect back on my young adult life, this is going to be one of the things I really want a written record of.
About 8 months ago, I went on a backpacking trip around western Europe, because I was 20 years old and school wasn't working and it was time to find, or escape, myself in the most stereotypical way possible. I met a girl on that trip, and we very quickly grew close. We went on walks, ate together, and talked for hours on end. She even listened when one night I got very drunk and broke down and cried about the unrequited love from back home. Even though I'm sure she was very uncomfortable at the time, she stayed, and she listened, and she really helped me. We continued to get closer, and my mild crush on her became a big one. On what was supposed to be our last night together, we sort of hooked up. I say sort of because we didn't have sex, we didn't fool around, we just kissed a lot and slept together. Regardless, it was one of the best sexual experiences I've ever had to date. The next morning she woke up and got on a train out of town, but we liked each other enough that we ended up taking trains all across the continent in order to meet up 3 more times over the course of a month. We had an amazing time every time we saw each other, and by the end of the trip, seeing her one last time was all I cared about. When I left, we both knew it was probably the last time we would ever see each other, and were prepared to let the flame die. Since I've gotten back we've been keeping in contact (mostly internet, sometimes phone) and despite both of our best efforts we've essentially become an exclusive couple.
I said I'd never do it, but I've become one of those people who's in a ridiculous and unrealistic long-distance relationship, and I honestly don't care. I am madly in love with this girl, and in five days, I'm flying all the way to a tiny village in waaay eastern Germany, just to see her for 12 days. It's crazy, and it's stupid, and it's wasteful, and I couldn't be more excited.
I've always been the type of person who's afraid to tell you he loves you because it might not be requited. I'm bad at dealing with rejection, so I avoid consideration altogether. At the back of my mind, I've always known it, but I'm starting to admit to myself that refusing to bare myself emotionally to the people I love hasn't really done much (anything) for me. In the world of love, playing it safe means being alone. I'm ready to put my emotional stability in the hands of someone else, and if I do end up getting hurt, it'll probably be good for me. In fact, I think it's well overdue.
Sometimes, it's really nice to take your brain's clothes off and just let it run, naked and free.
I am in love, and all the Hugh Grant movies were right. It does feel good.
Here's hoping it lasts. |
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