Love is rare. It is so rare.
I've come to realize, at 25, and with a bit of dating under my belt, that it is truly rare for me to find a person I can love, because he makes me laugh, and he's kind, and generous and gentlemanly and communicative and handsome and full of love and passion; it's rare to find that person and even rarer for that person, I find, to love me back.
When I was a child I assumed that life was guaranteed to some extent or another, the major things in life would in fact happen, and with some hard work and a lot of determination, the things I wanted would come to me. I would make top marks in high school, get into a prestigious university, study hard, learn what I was passionate about and pursue it, get an educational internship, which would lead to a good paying job, find the love of my life with little effort, and if I wanted to have children in the future, they would come effortlessly too.
It is now, post-degreed and in the real world, with a real minimum wage job, bills, daily realities, that I know few things, if anything in life is guaranteed. Life is risky. That's my new mantra. It's risky to go out with someone I really like but don't feel romantic towards, and turn him down for something I think is potentially a better fit for me. The age old question....take a bird in the hand, or wait for two in the bush? Friends are pairing up left and right, finding the loves of their lives. I love these friends and are so happy for them, and yet so jealous. What is the secret formula? How have they found the One? What did they do that's different from what I'm doing? When will things change for me? Will they one day be dancing at my wedding?
Life is risky. This I know. It's risky to date, to see what's out there, to get a taste of something great. But I'm taking the risk.
