After my heart was broken, I could feel my entire being begin to rot. My physical condition became sub par. My moods changed like a thirteen year old's, on the messy end of her menstrual cycle. And emotionally, I had the stability of an elephant on circus stilts. My conscience went on leave, and if my heart were hooked to a green screen, the waves would've resembled those of the Nile. I actually cannot recall a single conscious decision in the longest time during those dark days, or decades.
I tried to date again. Failed miserably.
My heart was numb.
Unconscious.
There were times when I'd have a great time out with a girl; talked, laughed, kissed, connected on some level or another...but I could never have any feelings. Zero attachment. Often times I'd actually lose complete interest and attraction in a girl after have the best time with her. :/ (I know, right?) I never understood it at the time, but now I think it had a lot to do with not getting over my breakup with Jewel (pseudonym for lack of permission from her to write this, primarily b/c we haven't spoken in months. lol geez AL) I wanted to get over her; I needed to so badly. It was ruining me. ...but my heart controlled my thoughts and feelings. Cerebrum--worthless.
I wanted to badly to fall in love again. So many songs, movies and pictures would send chills to my body and tears to the core of my eyes; ready to burst if only my pride would allow them. It's like when you go days without noticing a hangnail, and when you finally notice it, it seems to get ripped and snagged on every surface possible--Damn Murphy-- So any and everything that could remotely resemble any form of romance sent that same shocking sensation to take over my body like that tiny, powerful hangnail would tare.
There was only one thing that had a chance at saving me. Hope- I could only hope that I could be saved--to love again. And I knew that there was only one person who could save me...
I actually fell in love with this girl before having ever met her. Before having ever seen a picture of her. Throughout my USMAPS year, my best friend Ryan Johnson (don't need his permission for this! lol) would share stories of little brother-sister competitions growing up between him and his sister, Reanna. Every little anecdote stuck with me; I was falling for her and I didn't even know her. It was crazy, I know this, but I felt connected with her simply through hearing about her. I kept telling myself, "man, if I'm ever in a situation where even a friendship could develop with her, I'll be head over heels so fast!" haha...
...next thing I knew, Ryan tells me that she's being recruited to play softball at West Point. She got her Congressional Nomination. She got accepted. She signed. Batta-bing! Batta-boom! She's in! And I'm...nervous! ha. ... all that talking shit to myself about how I just needed to have a chance to hang out with her and let God take care of the rest, and I'd be set. I hoped maybe he could give me an extra boost of humor when I'd see her, because sometimes my jokes aren't all that funny. lol But I knew this was it, this was my way back into love.
She was it. She was everyththing. She held all the intangibles that made up the girl of my dreams. Smart. Funny. Athletic. Confident. Competitor. Determined. I could easily go on... I couldn't believe how crazy about her I was before I had even met her. It didn't matter, I had hope to love again. She'd given me hope without ever doing a single thing...
...my heart is yours...
.......
