Sometimes I want everything to be over, simply because I don’t know if I can handle all the pain, tears, and anxiety. Sometimes I just want to be able to do my own thing, on my own time, and not have to worry about whether or not my heart is going to be bent. But then I realize that I don’t think I could ever bear to see him on campus, smiling and laughing, knowing that I’m not the one who’s making him happy. I love being with him; hell, I love him. I think that’s what makes it so hard—we love each other. It can be crazy, hectic, frustrating, and annoying when love is involved. But it can also be fantastic, beautiful, fulfilling, eye-opening, and just plain great when you know there is someone who loves you, and he knows that you love him.
I think one of the most important things I’m learning is that every time you love someone, it’s different. That’s the biggest thing I’m still getting used to. You find out which person you were able to act like a spoiled princess around, and who actually forced you to act like an adult. You learn whose buttons you can push concerning certain subjects and arguments, and whose you needed to leave as is. You find out who truly loved you, and who didn’t. Without having gone through everything I did, and still am, how would I ever been able to learn? To quote the Tao of Pooh: “But isn’t the knowledge that comes from experience more valuable than the knowledge that doesn’t?”
Some days, I’m sad and mad; it’s human nature. Overall, though, I’m happy. Even when we’re arguing and screaming at each other, I still am happy with us. When I say I’m not, well, I’m just confused; that’s when my head and heart are running parallel to each other. Usually, they work in tandem. The most important thing is that when I go to sleep at night, I know he’ll be right across the walkway. In the morning, he’s the first image I see in my head. And I don’t want that to change. It’s good to know that the person you love, is the same person who loves you back.
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