(the work previously known as "True Love Bah Humbug")[Preface to the following piece: There is a folder hidden on my computer entitled "Splatter." In this folder, you will find all of the things I have written when I just need to write, none of which I ever intend to publish. They are just thinking pieces. I rifle through this folder at times when I am trying to refind myself, to retrace myself. I was doing just that earlier this week and stumbled upon this piece I wrote last March, yes, last March. It made me laugh, so I thought I'd share. Also, I think that maybe I should start taking my own advice. Anyways, Enjoy!]
True love may or may not be a myth. I believed in it until I hit my teen years.
There was a boy named Terry in my middle school band class and he had the most beautiful eyes, stunning, penetrating blue. We even called him after them: “Sexy eyes.”
I thought that I liked him. We used to talk on AOL Instant Messenger for hours on end. One day, as I was looking at my friend Ashley’s profile, envying the words dedicated to her boyfriend, (“i <3 cody”), Terry suddenly sent me a message.
“Rachel”
“Yeah?”
“There’s something I want to ask you.” My heart jumped at the possibility of this request.
“Yeah?” The anxiety was rising and my fingers began shaking, my heart leapt and I started perspiring in areas where I didn’t even know I had pores.
“Do you want to go out with me?”
The question I waited for so long was now on the screen before my eyes. He loved me as I loved him. I would be able to add those beautiful words to my profile “i <3 terry.” We would eat lunch together and walk around campus holding hands. I would no longer be the depressive, chubby girl. I was going to have my very own boyfriend.
As I typed my response, I hesitated. I knew my parents would not approve, but who cared? This was my one chance at true happiness!
“Yes,” I typed. Three solid letters were all I needed and my fate with him was sealed. He quickly signed off and I awaited the next day at school.
Long story short, turns out it was his friend, just playing a stupid prank on me.
So I stopped believing in true love.
Years later, when I lived on my own in Mexico for five months, I only went on one date. I was very afraid of lusty Latinos. Trying to create casual conversation, Arturo, my gentleman of a date asked, “Do you believe in Prince Charming?”
At first, I didn’t understand his wording. The phrase “Principe Azul,” which directly translated means “Blue Prince,” didn’t make a whole lot of sense to me. After some questioning, and learning the proper translation of the words, I quickly responded, “No.”
He looked at me, bewildered.
“How can you not believe in a Prince Charming?”
“Well,” I responded coolly, my words slicing with feminist passion, “I don’t think there is just one man out there for me. I think that I could make it work with anyone.”
Baffled, he continued, “Do you believe in true love?”
“I suppose. I believe in God’s love, but I don’t believe that I have ever ‘truly loved’ anyone.”
Again he looked as though he was about to drop to his knees. Maybe it was just a symptom of the lusty Latino disease.
I’ve grown up a little since then and heck, I’ve had my heart broken a couple times. I’ve found men that I adore, but just aren’t right for me. And then I’ve found my dream god of a man, who doesn’t even pay me attention.
So, maybe true love exists, maybe it doesn’t. I won’t say that it exists for me, but I won’t deny it either. All I know is that I haven’t found my Hercules, and he probably won’t come crawling to me either. Love doesn’t work that way.
Even in the movies, a lot of effort goes into making that romance work. You have to find the perfect couple, with just the right chemistry. Physically, they are a good match, their speech patterns and body movements complement each other, and when it’s time for the kiss, the audience can feel the magic. In Hollywood, they create romance. I’m surprised to be saying this, but reality is no different.
If you want love, find it. If you want romance, chase it. If you have found the one of your dreams, embrace them. Don’t sit and wait for your Blue Prince or Sexy Eyes to roll around. You’ve got to fight for him.
