Love isn’t that bad

Love is good when it’s with the right person.

Slumped on the couch, grasping a drink in my hand and a guy lumbered toward me. I don’t remember his face or his voice but the words that fell out of his mouth chilled my bones.

“Hey, Abby. Not enjoying yourself, huh?”

Those words. No one had ever pointed out my hate for social situations like that boy ever had. I felt vulnerable -- like I had just streaked through a football field during a packed football game. The room suddenly turned silent and time seemed to hault. The ping-pongs had stopped bouncing into cups, the shitty rap music had stopped bumping, everything had stopped. My head was pulsating and my heart wasn’t even beating. I got into my car and immediately drove all the way home. I don’t remember that drive home because too many thoughts had been going through my mind. Did someone notice how scared I was of all of this? Was there some sort of expression on my face that gave it away? There couldn’t have been, I sat in front of my mirror for almost two hours practicing my fake smile. I soon realized it was because he was a boy and no matter who they are or what they’re trying to do, they suck.

I was the type of person that was scared of something intimate. That meant having to show my true self and just that would make my stomach turn and do every kind of flip possible. I always thought of myself as an always-going-to-be-alone-and-fall-off-the-face-of-the-earth-after-high-school-and-never-talk-to- anyone-ever-again type of person. People knew not to get to close to me because I would go MIA if I thought things were getting too serious. Mind you, getting too serious in my opinion was sometimes a smile that looked a little too friendly or a high five that lingered. I was paranoid about what love was preserved to be. I didn’t want to have a fairy tale love story but I also didn’t want any type of love story. Love wasn’t my cup of tea. Love is gross. Love is not worth the struggle. Love is not worth the pain. Love is not worth the sacrifices you may need to make. Love is just straight up stupid. Not showing any type of emotion was my profession. But, that all changed after I met him.

My best friend at the time, Elisa, who has long blonde hair and eyes so blue they could pierce your soul. She was the quirkiest most outgoing girl I had ever met, we were complete opposites. We were scrolling through Instagram one day and she stopped on his picture.

“He’s so cute, Abby! You need to hit him up.” She said, with her squeaky, enthusiastic voice. She’s been trying and trying to get me to go on a date with every guy possible. The next thing I did changed my life forever. I thought we would go on one date, I would hate it and it would all be over. That is what always happened so what was going to be different this time, right? Was I so wrong? I send the first direct message. “Hey”. How generic and boring. He didn’t respond for 12 hours; Looking at my phone to see if he had answered yet. Every placebo buzz I heard. The deep feeling in my stomach. The constant want for an answer. Being impatient. After he responded for the first time, we talked and talked and talked. I knew immediately that this time was different but I didn’t want to admit it to anyone and most importantly not myself, I went on with the days, talking to him until the scariest moment of my life. Him asking me to hang out.

This scared me off. I stopped responding fast and let the message wait. I let it sit. I cried and cried because I did not know what I had gotten myself into. I fell for a boy for the first time since, ever! I contemplated everything that had happened in the last week. The reason I decided to go was my mom. She is my main supporter and gave me the best advice I had ever heard.

“Go with your gut. If it’s meant to be, it’ll be.” That pushed me and was the entire reason I went on this date.

This first date was different than any of my other first dates. Walking into the restaurant 10 minutes before close, the lights dimmed in the back. We picked the booth in the way back. It was a dirty blue with ketchup stains and pepper spilled all over.  Eating ice cream and rambling on and on about how pissed off I was that I didn’t play at my last volleyball game.

He cocked his head to the right side and opened his eyes wide to make sure I knew he was intrigued. He made facial expressions that matched how I was feeling or what I was saying. My stomach was twisting and turning, my heart was beating as fast as, well, something fast. I was feeling a feeling that I have never had before and it was the best feeling in the world but also the scariest. He was listening. He wasn’t like one of those guys who just finessed their way through the first date to get to what they wanted the entire time. The only thing that was going through my head at this point was, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” As he dropped me off at my house later that night, I skipped into my house with the biggest grin on my face. I never wrote before I met him. But for some reason when I got home that night, I picked up an old notebook with math problems scribbled all over random pages and starting writing. I wrote until I couldn’t feel my fingers and I thought I was getting carpal tunnel. By then I had knocked out 8 pages front and back all about that 45 minute date we just had.

When I had finally snapped out of my love funk two days later I realized something. Maybe I didn’t want to be alone. Maybe it was just my fear of intimacy that was holding me back this entire time. The thing about me being infatuated with this boy was that everyone knew and I didn’t have to say a word. My mood completely switched and I was jumping off the walls. I got more outgoing and threw myself into any social situation I could. I made friends with his friends and they are some of my best friends to this day.

This prom I had gone to an after party. I didn’t sit in the corner by myself. I opened up and went around talking to everyone who talked back, even if they didn’t. I bounced balls into cups and screamed Post Malone lyrics at the top of my lungs. I danced the night away while he was in my mind and by my side, everything felt right. I was who I was meant to be and at that moment, I felt invincible.

I look back to the day I met that boy, a year ago, and wonder what my life would be like without him. He made me a better version of myself. Now I know that love isn’t bad and I was just in terror of getting hurt. The meaning behind this story is evident: Love is good when it’s with the right person.