What’s my problem you ask? I’ll tell you, but don’t judge me. I am constantly looking for, thinking about, pining for a love in my life. I scour my IPod everyday while walking wistfully across campus for song that complements my covetous mind. It’s usually Stevie Wonder or something of the like. I want the love that sounds like a Stevie Wonder song. I’m not looking a ballad romance. I want a “Signed Sealed Delivered I’m Yours” love. I want passion, energy, ardor; I want to walk along boulevard with my love with, “My Cherie Amour” playing out of the speakers that once were traffic lights. I am so endlessly desirous of this type of love that my heart swells with reveries for the “Sunshine of my Life.” What makes me so desirous, so lustful for this person for whom I can say to “for once in my life I have someone who needs me, someone I’ve needed so?”
Some would say, well, he hasn’t experienced love. I would counter, I have, and more than once. They would then say, well, then, it’s because you’ve never felt heartbreak.
This monologue leads to no conclusions as to why I constantly find myself yearning for that big love. It also doesn’t explain why I find myself watching girls fall for me and retreating for George Castanza-esque reasons. Maybe I’m looking for love in the wrong people. Maybe my lustful longings aren’t reaching the right people. Maybe I’m just in love with idea of being in love. Maybe I push myself to find love, love in other people that wouldn’t, shouldn’t normally, naturally happen.
Who’s to blame? My past romances, the beauties for which I steal furtive glances and partake in unrequited crushes? Stevie Wonder? Truth be told, Stevie Wonder is the true culprit of my Tuesday Heartbreaks and of seeing ‘That Girl’ with every other girl as I pass Old Main. What if I would stop “A Bad Mama Jama” in front of Old Main, and tell her how lovely I thought she was, and that for that one moment that I saw her, the world stopped, and she was the center of my universe, my Aphrodite, and that I saw our stunning romance unfold in a lifetime of bliss, for that one split second.
Fortunately, I am always late for class and never would have time to profess these sentiments to a passing stranger. But, life is full of surprises and maybe one day, I’ll be early for class, and you’ll be late, and maybe we’ll bump into each other while I’m changing my song to my iPod, and with one ear-bud out, I’ll look into your swirling striking eyes, and I’ll say “Excuse me,” but please know what I’m thinking, because in that moment there is nothing more important than you.
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