Essay One- On Love, Loss, And Pets

Where to begin… That seems the perennial question when it comes to love, on where it begins. For me, love began in 5^th grade, as silly as it seems. This beautiful girl named Claire (and I say no more, no last names in here besides my own!) kept on hitting me with her hair. Weird, huh? And eventually I developed a bad crush on her, one that nothing could fix. And to make a long story short, the Problem didn’t get fixed. It got slapped in the face and left to sadly consider the future love-life debacles it would have whilst standing in the middle of a library, surrounded by friends who wouldn’t meet poor Problem’s eyes. Little did Problem (Me, if you hadn’t guessed, reader, though I am sure you have) know, this was just an example of hard times to come.

The next great debacle in my love-life came during freshman year, 9^th grade. There were a few smaller incidents in between, but I don’t think those are worth a mention. Compared to this catastrophe, they were barely noticeable. You see, once upon a time there was this girl named Lisa. Wonderful gal, I’m still close pals with her, but during Freshman year I thought that We, note the capital, had fallen deeply into love. What a mistake!

First off, it manifested itself, I was told, rather cutely. I would kind of follow her around like a lost puppy, and compliment her almost incessantly. I was deep in love, folks. Head over heels would be an understatement! Eventually, I worked up the guts to ask her to Homecoming, the big local dance, and she gladly accepted!

You should have seen me! I was beaming excitedly, maybe touching the ground every twenty feet or so when I walked. Essentially, I was making a fool out of myself.

Anyways, since this dance happened to be near Valentine’s Day (of course), I went off on a little hint, maybe just a mere felt desire, that I had gotten while talking to her, and I picked her up a book, rarely sold in America, but just happened to be at the local Barnes and Nobles. It was actually an awesome gift, if I may say so. Actually, she said so too, but I didn’t hear her until later.

Also, for Valentine’s Day we had this thing where single people would wear green (as in go), and couples would wear red (as in stop, I’m dating or something).

Of course, I showed up to school in the brightest, proudest red shirt I could find, present in hand and wrapped beautifully. At the other end of the hallway, though, as I stepped in the door I saw something else wrapped beautifully.

Lisa, in a bright green shirt.

Ouch.

So Problem shambled, limped rather, over to her, smiled a wane little smile, handed her the present, and walked away trying not to cry. But then, horror upon horrors, she asked me, in her typical bubbly way, “Matt! Who’s going out with you?”

I kept up my sad limp, my soul-less hobble, and croaked out two words.

“You were.”

And on that note, I had the worst week of my life. Nothing, absolutely nothing, could get me out of that blue funk. My grades dipped, my friends started either taunting or worrying, and my parents thought I was experimenting with drugs. Fun, no?

But eventually, I wrested myself from that pile of shit, and got back up onto my feet and started to walk again. One of the first things the reforged Matt did was talk to Lisa, the source of my anguish. Shockingly, my first action was to ask her about the book. That surprised even me! And even more surprisingly, we somehow rebuilt and rearranged the ruins into a great friendship that I’m infinitely glad to have today.

Oddly, that isn’t what I would call the worst experience in my love-life. It at least had a happy ending, although definitely not the one I had planned upon.

No, the worst was a love without loss. What could be wrong with this, you say?

Everything.

There was this girl named Melissa, Lisa’s best friend (how I met her), and I thought she was the greatest thing in the world. I thought her beautiful, smart, kind, all kinds of shit. Later on, I would discover that she was maybe one or two of the above. Point is, I fell for her as bad as I had fallen for Lisa a year ago.

Now, this wasn’t a sharp, instant torture, it was long, drawn out, and deadly. I fell in love with this girl for about a full year. Every time my mind would turn to her, it would stumble and fall away from the pedestal that I had put her upon, just like Francesco Petrarch and his Laura. Unfortunately, while Petrarch could write poetry and beautiful and glorious sonnets, I could only angst and yearn. That in itself was the worst torture, plus the little put downs Melissa would heap on me every single day. By the end, I was kind of an emotional wreck, with an outer gleam of shining Happiness that no one cared to see through. Eventually, I broke down to someone, and, thank God!, it was Lisa.

Without the bias of “what a man should do”, which was obviously ask her out, she told me to go and relax with the men for a while, and lose myself to some Rock Band or something. I promptly did so, and while I still knew, deep down, that I loved Melissa, a part of me stopped caring that weekend.

Every week afterwards, I felt better and better, using my friends somewhat like crutches, but I still got there. Eventually, I saw her kiss my best friend and all I thought was, “Good for him”. And I walked away and went about my business as usual. That was one of the greatest triumphs of my life.

And now that I’m done ranting about my deeds, it’s time to put some philosophical thought onto the issue of love. Love is a beautiful thing. No other words can fit! Even with the losses I’ve had, I’m still kind of glad to have had them. But when it comes to love, it is a two-way thing. You may love someone, but they may not love you back. It’s hard, it sucks, but people, let me tell you, are damned strong. Everything is recoverable from. You can live. Amazing, no? But I’ve done it enough times to know.

Also, when it comes to love, without a doubt, it is universal. Gays feel it, lesbians feel it, bisexuals feel it, everybody does in some shape or form. And no matter what, it’s still as beautiful as between a man and a woman. But that’s just my opinion. I think that if they want to be married, by all means! Why not! My argument with those mega-Christians is this: If it’s a sin, and you don’t want to do it, why don’t you want others to do it? Sure, it’s a “sin” for them too, but it’s similar to protesting because a man likes to pig out every Sunday on cheap Chinese because it’s gluttony. Let them sin if they wish, I would think.

Of course, being very loosely Christian, I probably have no right to say this. Maybe somewhere in the Bible it does say that allowing gays to be happy is a sin. Maybe it comes right after “Love thy brother”…

Anyways, my luck on love is not way too sour. I still have one of the greatest things anybody can ever have: a pet. They’re a source, I swear, of constant, causeless, free and deep love. It’s probably a form of payback for all the time and affection that we lose on other people. Like a week after you break up with a girl, you find a puppy on your doorstep! Wouldn’t that be great?

Or a kitten, of course. It’s actually kind of funny how cats and dogs love differently. Dogs love like a child who has the absolute Bestest Parents EVER, and cats love more like a best friend does. Unfortunately, as I’ve never had anything else, I don’t know how parrots or iguana show their affection.

But one thing about pets is that they show their love constantly. You get home any day of the week, feeling like shit, they are going to greet you with a nuzzle and a mew (or a squawk or a hiss), and you’ll feel better.

Another thing, especially when it comes to love, that will make you feel better is actually rushing. It’s weird, right? But if you ask a girl out quick, that’s nearly the end of your pain.  If you don’t you’re stuck in the Petrarch cycle, and it will hurt far more than asking. Compare a long, throbbing ache that will never go away to a quick smack to the jaw. I’d take the quick punch anyday, thanks to the lesson Melissa so painfully taught me!

            And no matter what, rain or shine, failure or success, you can always come home to somebody you know that loves you, with all it’s beating heart and all it’s wagging tail.