Bubble gum

"I'm happy to find someone to be mine,
not a virgin not saint but she mine,
nobody's perfect so just give me something to work with,
good conversation, hesitate in the first kiss" -Nas

It's 5:34 in the morning. At 3 a.m., I was scrambling throughout the house looking for my immunization records for this upcoming world trip after looking up a few dentists and adding a few things to my to-do list. As I've been for the past couple of weeks, financial pressures, bills, and a long/undesirable to-do list were taking up all of my head space.

Before I got to the immunization records on my desk, I scrambled onto my thin green diary with a picture of a rose on the cover- It was my 5th diary, I was 16 going on 5.

I went in the cabinet and flipped through about 3 of them.

When I think about the past, it's usually negative because it helps me believe that I've now left the negative behind, but to skim through those badly written journals, I couldn't find anything negative.

My 17 year-old self was detailing everyday of the colossal crush. From curiosity to anxiety, counting each hour, staring at someone from distance, watching him stare back. The way I described back then and to now read it; it had to be the cutest thing in the world.
"10 more hours until I see him... OMG OMG anxiety."

There was no judgment and apprehension, it was brand new, scary and exhilarating. Dissecting every little detail, every word, every flirtatious move, everything right down to the day and second- drawing hearts in my diary and copying down lyrics to love songs; I must've been the most spazzy, passionate, anxious and happiest girl in the world.

I look at that and part of me naturally says, "wow, what a naive, stupid, young kid." But part of me marvels at its innocence and beauty. Never in my life had my smile been so wide and my silliness been so obvious. It's nice to unexpectedly look back and notice that period; an adorable infatuation and a young girl that was just beaming because for those 4 months, he was the prince that swept her off her feet.

Four years- as a young girl transitioning into being a woman- I learn so many strategical tips, things to look out for, what not to trust, low expectation, and all men are dogs. The innocence decreases and the wall keeps growing along with the hurt. There's always second thoughts; cheesy Jessica Simpson songs no longer make me dance in the living room.

Like a corny Taylor Swift video, adorable. Every second with this dude, treasured, an unquestioned miracle to me. Now I'm available, kissing guys I'm not with and sometimes not caring if I ever see them again.

Realizing that all they think about is sex while I'm hopelessly trying to converse, so unromantic. Having the birth control talk with my mentor and nurse- so unromantic. No letters- all everyone does now is aimlessly try to flirt through facebook- umm... unromantic. No hints, no small games, no jokes-- no laughing at stupid shit without worrying about people's perceptions- no quirky pursuits. It lacks romance.

Of course the prince is also the devil, and as the story goes, more devils followed right behind him.

I don't know, there's something so unsettling about these guys being either people who temporarily please me when I'm lonely or horny, or being guys who I have to analyze from every direction, take every precaution, understand each limitation before I could let my guard down even slightly.

So...

There's something innocent, and beautiful, and fun-- like a fairytail about falling helplessly in love. I read those diaries and I don't worry about finances for a little while. So many (admittedly very naive) "awwwww" moments, but they make my day. It's nice to look back at that and realize that the first months of being 17, and the first half of the colossal, confusing, daunting situation, was actually really kickass. The romance of it was kinda nice.