I want to be surprised.
I find that with every year that goes by, my imagination and that of the world around me becomes smaller and more limited. I swear the word has lost just about every ounce of originality left.
I remember when I was a kid, my little cousins and I would make ‘clubhouses’ out of polka-dotted blankets, and my grandmother’s old floral print sheets that we held down with canned foods as weights. We’d pretend that we were hiding in caves of tibet, or we’d sleep in canopies that we hung on the stairs and pretend that we were on ships that were hiding from sea monsters – we even used to get mad at each other if one of us left the clubhouse without a jacket, since it was ‘too cold outside’ to leave without one. We’d do ridiculous things such as dig up giant holes in the backyard thinking we’d find a treasure chest, or sitting in the back of my dad’s volvo and pretending to shoot away velociraptors that were running towards the car, or close our eyes when we flew on the swings cus we thought it’d make us go faster.
The point is – our imagination ran wild, and as we grew older – we look back and laugh at the unusual things we did when we were still naive and ignorant; before everyone told us that we were never really on a ship, or never really in tibet, or that there weren’t ever any raptors alive in the 21st century, or that we were never going to find a treasure chest in the suburbs of Virginia.
It makes me sad sometimes, that I’ve lost so much of that blind faith and imagination.
It’s silly, but I wish I had someone to be that stupid with. To know I’m not the only one who doesn’t want to grow up yet. Someone I could climb to the rooftops with, because the world is flooding around us – and we’re the only ones left.
So here I am, mourning my youth I guess. I told myself when I was younger, that I’d never want to be just another hardened girl, no matter what any stupid boy did to me – and I’m trying.. but there’s only so much I can take.. and even though I don’t admit that I’ve been jaded, I can see it in the decisions I make, or how I react to things that used to make me happy.
All my first boyfriend had to do – was just show up at my door with a bouquet of roses, or write a letter he probably didn’t mean – and I’d be the happiest girl in the world – and I’d believe him when he said he Loved me.
Now, I have a guy who has forgiven me for the wrong things that I’ve done to him – treated me like nothing less than a princess, and has done nothing wrong, and promises me that he’ll do everything to make me happy if I gave him a chance.
But I don’t believe him. In fact, if I don’t believe him – I probably won’t believe anyone who tells me that – no matter how good of a reputation they’ve had, no matter how genuine they may seem, no matter how many people tell me it’ll work out – my heart is so worn out. “Love is not a feeling, it is an ability.” And I really think I’ve lost it. So here I am, kicking myself every day for not being able to say yes, and not knowing why I haven’t said yes.. and all I can say is that I’m sorry, and that I wish you had been here earlier, before I lost it.
