Friday, February 15, 2013

Love Story

Valentine's Day is never easy for singles.  I think of it as a silly holiday, but I have to admit, it's difficult for me, even though I'm only 16.  While I don't want a boyfriend and am not ready for one, there's still a part of me that gets this little pang of jealousy whenever I see my friends hanging on their significant others.  It used to get to the point where I'd wonder what was wrong with me for not having a boyfriend.  So I was dreading Valentine's Day, knowing that despite the fact that I still had plenty of single friends, I also had many friends who were in relationships.  I signed up for a choir trip to an opera house in hopes of escaping all the "festivities," but it was in vain.  There were still couples giving gifts to each other and adoring each other and such.
As I stated before, I think of Valentine's Day as a silly holiday.  Here, it's a day mostly focused on romance, whereas in other countries, it's also about friendship and family.  As one of my friends said, it's silly to just have one day of the entire year to focus your attention on your significant other.  I used to get so excited for V Day because of all the cards and candy I'd get from classmates in elementary school.  Now I just dread it every year.  Perhaps my cynicism and pessimism contributed to that.
But when you've been single all your life and you watch your friends get boyfriend after boyfriend, it's disheartening, even if your dream is to live up in Wyoming with 82 cats.
I used to always ask myself if there was a reason that I didn't get guys like my friends did.  I wondered if I was ugly.  I wondered if I was annoying.  It would often switch back and forth between those two most days; I'd feel pretty but annoying some days and charismatic but looking more hideous than the goblins from Labyrinth (only recently have I seen that movie, so I did not use that analogy back then) on other days.  Despite always putting myself down, I'd always get my hopes up that someone would come and tell me that they'd secretly liked me on V Day until finally, I just gave up.  And all that hoping and self-loathing really takes a toll on you.
It took me so many years to find the one who loved me to the point where he was jealous for me.  We'd always been great friends, but it took me so long to figure out that he actually loved me.  He didn't think I was ugly and is incredibly patient with me.  He picked me up when I was having issues and celebrated with me when life was running smoothly.  He always listens to what I have to say no matter what it is and he offers some of the best advice.  I've done several things to hurt him, but he's always forgiven me and he knows me better than I know myself.  But that revelation - it finally dawning on me that he loved me - is overwhelming.
Here's the turning point.  He knew of me before I even existed.  He had every little detail about me planned out because he cared that much.  He was mocked and humiliated, then nailed to a cross to bleed freely and struggle for breath because he loved me to the point where he'd die to make sure that I'd have a place by him someday.  That's the best kind of love story.  It illustrates true love, the kind of love that movies try to portray as sex and lust when in reality, love is so much deeper than that.  It's sacrifice and commitment.  Love is not the butterflies you feel in your stomach.  It's a choice.  Love is not always easy.  Infatuation's easy, but love isn't.  But if there's one thing I've learned, it's that it's the thing we need most in this broken world.
Truth is, I still struggle with self-esteem sometimes.  But I found the best kind of love out there.  It's a kind of love that has given me worth and value, something that no boyfriend will ever be able to give me, and for that, I'm incredibly grateful.

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