My Twenty-Somethings Ramblings of a Young and Restless

Crazy Stupid Love


By now, I probably come off as someone completely void of experiencing attachment to any living species besides cats and house plants. You probably think I hit the escape button any time a guy tries to get a slice of this fine dime-piece. However, this can’t be further from the truth (okay okay, maybe it’s still a little bit true). But when I get tired of keeping up the whole Miss Emotionally Unavailable shtick, I transform into Miss Emotionally Too Available. It’s a complete Jekyll and Hyde situation that doesn’t happen very often, so when it does I’m like, peace out, caution and cannonball right into the wind.

When I am smitten over a guy, I go from an IDGAF-girl-with-a-dragon-tattoo to a girl-about-to-get-her-boo’s-face-and-anniversary-date-tattooed-across-her-back. I become that girl who misses you before you even step out the door, who will wake up early to make you coffee, who says inexcusably cheesy things like, You’re the last person I think about before I go to sleep and the first person I think about when I wake up. All of a sudden, old love songs find new meaning, the sun shines brighter, food tastes better and Adele’s Someone Like You is taken off the playlist. I become this lovesick, vom-inducing, saccharine-dipped, sappy but happy, hot mess. Basically, I become that person whom, if I weren’t that person, I would want to punch in the face repeatedly and rapidly.

And so I was talking about this with my friend Hannah the other day. She didn’t like how it felt to be so consumed by one person, how distracting it was to be constantly thinking about a guy 24/7. And I totally get it. It’s hard to focus on anything else when your stomach has more knots than Ke$ha’s hair extensions. You can forget about being able to interact with other human beings when you’re constantly checking your phone for texts from your honey boo boo. You’ll answer every doorbell wishing it was your sweetie coming to surprise you instead of Unibrow Guy from across the hall asking to borrow a roll of toilet paper again. And you might as well cancel all other plans because when your body is running rampant with oxytocin, all you want to do is cuddle and watch the sunrise.

You’ll understand why they call it lovesickness. Your palms sweat, your heart palpitates, your head spins, and your lungs can’t seem to remember how to catch a breath when you’re around him. You’ll be on the verge of ripping your heart out because all this lovey dovey stuff usually makes you puke. And yet somehow, in some strange twisted way, lovesickness may be the best feeling in the world.

There will be people who will tell you to lead with your head and not your heart, who will tell you that your proclamations of love are foolish and misguided. These are the same people who will try to convince you that those butterflies in your stomach are just some physiological responses to new stimuli, and are the same butterflies you get when you’re giving a speech or getting murdered in an alleyway. Don’t let their skepticism taint you. Love is going to be irrational but in the best of ways. And you won’t even know it has hit you until you’re driving halfway across the country just to be with someone for a day. You won’t be able to explain how you can love someone so much that you feel like you’re on the brink of death and yet at the same time, you’ve never felt so alive.

The thing about lovesickness is you’ve gotta appreciate it while it lasts. Not to say that love doesn’t last forever, but after you’ve been married for 20 years, chances are your heart isn’t going to flutter with desire every time your husband walks through the door. You won’t have the energy to stay up all night for pillow talk when you have an early commute and three kids. You’re going to miss the time you were crazy in love. So the next time a cutie comes along who is dreamy enough to sweep you off your feet, let him.

YOLO. JAI HO. Let’s all just fall in love.

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My Twenty-Somethings Ramblings of a Young and Restless

About Me

I'm a twenty-something who likes learning about people and writing about them.


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