I was interviewed last week by Alexi Wasser for her site, imboycrazy.com. I quite like Alexi’s romantic, boy-riddled brain and her censorship free voice to say whatever the hell comes to mind. She asked me when I had last been in love and it made me realize…it’s been a long while. She then said something that she sometimes thinks and that I may try to sometimes think too: each morning brings with it the fresh promise of falling in love again.
When I first fell in love – in the Spring of 2000 – I remember listening to Marlene Dietrich singing, “Falling in love again, never wanted to, what am I to do? I can’t help it.” I thought it was idiotic to lament such a thing as love, as if it were some sort of virus that flares up every now and again – like herpes. And 11 years later, I still think it’s moronic.
But for me, it’s been years since I’ve last fallen in love again. And perhaps it was the realization of this last week that made me rather sad over the weekend. You see, about two months ago I met a girl. Tall and blonde, pretty and oh-so-smart, with lovely blue eyes, a mind that wanted to do nothing less than save the whole wide world, and a smile that, though infectious, held the slightest hint of quirk and whimsy; in short, she was, quite honestly, amazing. It wasn’t long after I met her that I learned that, due to financial circumstances, she may have to move to New York.
Within weeks, it had been decided. She was moving. She told me while we were having dinner and my initial instinct was to pay the bill and leave. But I liked her. Fancied her. So I put it out of my mind. Seized the moment, seized the day. Carpe diem. All that horseshit.
And on Saturday, I said goodbye to her. I had planned on saying to her, “If I let myself, I would fall completely for you.” I had planned to beg her to spend the entire day with me, the night too, for us to just pretend that for that one day we were something, rather than a couple of folks who had been on a handful of dates and were now heading our separate ways. But that’s what we were and so I just said, “I don’t know if I’ll ever see you again.” It was a pessimistic thing to say, and she told me as much. Though it’s probably true.
And thus, rather than waking up Saturday morning to the possibility of falling in love again, instead I awoke to just another girl littered on a road of girls in the Land of It Wasn’t Meant to Be. But that was Saturday. And the sun keeps on rising.