Tell me we'll never get used to it.

I have broken just about all of my rules. Nope, I've literally broken all of them--surrounding relationships. Boys. I don't know why I set rules for myself because I am not thinking with my head when it comes to boys. That "I will never..." is completely useless. It's "I will never...except if I am feeling...or if he is...or maybe..." Out of control. I've hurt myself and others in the process, but there have been some pretty profound moments too.

I've gotten tough. It feels a little dangerous because it means I take more chances, I think I can handle whatever, no big, I've been through worse. When it comes to rejection or forgetting or whatever else comes my way, I mean. That "I've handled worse" mentality at least means that I don't stand in my own way with hesitation.

Whatever the case. There is some sadness because the best, the greatest, is, well, being with someone. One person. Coming home to the same person. Learning each other. However, there is some excitement being single, the possibility of something great around the corner, however fleeting. You appreciate it more when you aren't used to it.

I wish someone had shaken me, way back when, and told me "This is IT," well maybe not IT, but something incredibly unique. I will be with other people, and I can say with hope that it will be even better, but I don't think I'll ever have that same fascination of newness, exuberance, disbelief, even with some of the bad awkwardness and even pain. It certainly was never boring. It was good at its core.