Take it easy on me
I have a lot of young friends. I mean..young. Young enough to my kid young. I love every single one of them – they inspire me, they teach me new things, they get me off my ass and in to the world, they teach me the word “mobbin” and then laugh hysterically when I try to use it.
But when it comes to love I look at them and think, “What. The. Fuck. It shouldn’t be this hard.” I also wonder, was I so drama ridden back then? (The answer is probably yes…) My own childhood was somewhat put on hold when my dad died, and said childhood decided to reassert itself in later years (hence the love of comic books and dorkiness). It used to be that a person was an adult at 18 – able to vote and be drafted. Now we know a bit different. The brain isn’t done cooking at 18. (I tell a friend of mine this everytime, and it ain’t often, that her child acts up).
There’s a reason the “Twilight” books were so popular: to a teenager, everything IS that important. Especially anything involving emotion.
But love isn’t supposed to be that hard. Oh, that doesn’t mean it won’t be worth remembering. I have very fond memories of having my heart broken, and listening to depressing music in my dorm room while drinking coffee and smoking clove cigarettes. I wouldn’t change those memories for anything. But I know now, and I probably knew then, that that’s not what love is about.
When I worked at Hawthorne Coffee Merchant I had a customer who told me, very wisely, that you knew it was love when the worst day with someone was better than the best day with anyone else. She was right.
Love isn’t easy. That doesn’t mean you don’t have to work at it, but it shouldn’t be difficult. That someone should make your life better, not more drama-filled.