Love is a Four-Letter Word

Once again, I find myself listening to music to help me concentrate on one task but the melodies have bought me a one-way ticket onto a totally unrelated train of thought. And it's a train I'd really like to miss because I never discuss my emotions. But, I also never ignore good inspiration. So, I'm riding this train until we reach the end of the track... I just hope it's not off a metaphorical cliff.

Ever since I hijacked my cousin's music from her portable hard drive, I've been revisiting a few of my favorite artists from my adolescence and teenage years. My aptly named "Pop Oldies" playlist boasts songs from multiple albums featuring 98 degrees, Backstreet Boys, and N*Sync. A common theme I'm beginning to notice is love (and dancing--but mostly love). True love. Unrequited love. Everlasting love. Love, love, love.

And while I couldn't for the life of me imagine love existing outside of a realm created by Disney or in storybooks when I was "jammin'" these songs at 13, I certainly have a different view of it now.

Love is special. Love is pure. Love is patient. Love is blind... I believe all these things to be true along with a few other cliches that accompany love. But it's the latter that always makes me wonder. Why is love blind? How is love blind? What does it mean for love to be blind?

I think the core meaning of this phrase is that love makes us blind. You hear of women who refuse to leave their abusive men because they "love" them. You hear of men who are unfaithful to their wives but still claim to "love" them. And talk shows are full of mix-matched couples who the rest of the world wouldn't see sharing a cup of coffee together much less a ten-year marriage... but they're in "love".

We're blind to all fact and reason when we're in love. Because what is love but pure joy? And what is fact but reality? When given the choice, who would pick the latter?

But what do I know? (Absolutely nothing)

I broke the heart of the last man I loved. And while I hope and pray that he'll find love and happiness again in his life because he is an amazing person and a good man, I can't blame him for finding it hard to trust people again. Especially me.

I was blind, then. I was in love. So deeply and truly in love that I didn't see the problems I was facing in our relationship because I loved him and I knew he loved me--What else did we need? And had I lived outside of that fantasy for just one moment, I could have seen the cracks in our picture-perfect photo frame. Had I pulled the blindfold of love off just a moment sooner, I could have talked about what I was feeling and we could have fixed it. We could have worked. We could have made it work.

And it's that exact fact that guards my heart now. I'm so afraid to love again. I'm so afraid to break the heart of another good man. I'm just so afraid that I may be a heart-breaker underneath. I'm afraid that my "I love you" is the kiss of death to any romantic relationship I'm in.

Which is funny, because the current relationship I'm in seems like a fairytale (only without love) now: A handsome, charismatic, charming, blue-eyed prince swept in and rescued me when I was too proud to admit I needed saving. And I admire him for having the courage to do so.

And I thank him for it.

And I cherish what we have.

And I'm falling in love with him.

I'm falling, but I'm tightly grasping every foothold and grip I can find on the way down.

Love is a four-letter word. And like the other four-letter words, it should be used carefully. It should be used sparingly. It empowers some people. It angers others. It shocks. It shames. It... frightens.

.:~o*'Kaylyn'*o~:.

P.S. - And this is why I don't talk about my feelings. So I'll probably deny ever writing this if questioned.

NaN-Uh Oh

[Warning: This is written in as a stream of conscience at multiple intervals until I reach a respectable word count.I'm curious.]

Nov. 1
7:09p

Well, after weeks of pep talks and planning, it's finally here! November first. The official start of NaNoWriMo. And while I didn't hack out thousands of words that had been building for weeks at the stroke of midnight (Haha. Very far from it, actually), I still feel the excitement boiling over.

Hot coffee? Check.
Slow music playlist on? Check. (Jason Mraz!)
Scribbled notes of the past few days? Check.

Let's go!!!

7:11p
The blank page of the Word window stares back at me, the blinking cursor seeming to be screaming: "WRITE!!!" It may as well be a flashing neon sign. It blinks like one anyway.

What should my first word be? What do I want it to be? How do I want to start what will eventually become a 50,000 novel by the end of a month?

Wildfire.

7:15p
Header? No header. Page numbers? No page numbers.

Page numbers.

No page numbers.

Novel title as a header?

Page numbers.

7:21p
The sweet sound of tapping keys is soothing. I'm accomplishing something. Something.

With the music, coffee, and laptop I feel a bit pretentious. Maybe I should be in a coffee shop... Wanna watch me write?!? Sure!

Well, maybe not so much pretentious as cliche. Yet somehow right. It's odd.

7:32p
Word count: 76.

Stupid AIM. "Stop IMing me!" No, that's mean.

Away message?

No away message.

Invisible.

No invisible.

7:36p
Note to self: PRESENT. TENSE.

That is all.

7:54p
How the fuck did Rachel write 2818 words in one day?

8:09p
No Doubling Back. How appropriate.

8:17p
217 words. This is depressing.

8:18p
As if on que, text from Chris Taylor: "Word count? :-)"

Response: "A dismal 217. :("

8:21p
PRESENT. TENSE.

8:28p
No music. Too distracting.

8:31p
Just took the biggest sip of cold coffee. Not pleasing.

As I write this, I'm reminded of Twitter for some reason...

8:43p
Begin concentrated writing hour.

Invisible.

No response to texts.

Playlist set.

Just writing. One hour...

8:58p
2 unread text messages.

It's so tempting.. But I am not removing my hands from this keyboard for another 50 minutes.

9:11p
I just realized I haven't been saving this document.

Wow.

To the desktop with you!

9:19p
TWO PAGES!

There's something oddly satisfying about writing a line of text and having it unexpectedly roll over to a second page. It's like a well-welcomed surprise.

545 words. This concentrated writing hour is working.

9:32p
Phone call... Hmm... Decisions, decisions.

It's Alexis. Oh, may as well.

9:46p
Mandatory power hour completed.

Word count: 845. Halfway!

9:56p
Heart attack. After four beautiful, instrumental songs on the "Disney" playlist, Timon and Pumba's "Hula" just scared me half to death.

10:12p
Page three!

Word count: 1073

10:18p
...I just coded text. I literally just enclosed text in html tags.

Shows how often I write in Word.

10:29p
Hmm.. my computer doesn't know the word "hardass".

Neither does Blogger.

I know I've heard the term... :/

10:58p
Apparently, "mic" is not the correct abbreviation for microphone.

Word is so strange.

11:02p
I'm going to cut Rachel.

11:32p
Thoughts drained.

Final word count for day 1: 2152

.:~o*Kaylyn*~o:.