To be honest, my nervous self wanted to say "truth" but there was also a part of me that wanted to bust out a five-second frenchy on Lauren Smodgers as well. I remember looking around, feeling the beady eyes of judging elementary school kids upon me--waiting my response. "Dare," I said, as gasps filled the yellow school bus (I made that more dramatic then it was). Of course, just like most first kisses, this one didn't go quite as planned. Instead of taking Lauren to make out Pleasure Town, I was "dared" to kiss Emily Croft-- the other cute brunette in our seventh grade class. And what began as an unintentional "truth or dare" kiss, turned into my first "check yes or no" girlfriend. Booyah. Sorry, Lauren Smodgers.
In high school, the primary objective was to lose my virginity and have a girlfriend. Unfortunately, it was also filled with buying my first pregnancy test, five hour fights in the Carls Jr. parking lot and intense makeups in the backseat of the car.
In college, it was all about drinking cheap alcohol and making bad choices. Check and check. With that being said, this time period was also filled with make out sessions that felt like modern day handshakes and a girlfriend that may or may not have thrown a George Foreman grill at my head, which of course, in her defense, I deserved.
After college, it was all about happy hours and dates that didn't require being beer pong partners, AKA, finally figuring out what it means to get to know someone without eight shots of vodka floating around your brain. Wow, what a difference that makes.
During these stages of love, I have had intense ups and extreme downs. I've had honeymoon phases that felt like slow motion romantic comedy montages and breakups that felt like Death Cab for Cutie's sorrow was injected into my veins. I've had girls that I loved and hated in the same hour and girls that have slapped and kissed me within the same minute.
Nevertheless, when it comes to love, just like my dreams, I have always allowed myself room to fail.
On the long and windy road of dating, there is always moment where some asshole or biznatch took a spiked club to your heart. You know it hurt because it left these disgusting looking scars. The type of scars that make you numb to the idea of finding love, taking risks or letting people in. And just like in any matters of the heart, the more you expose yourself and fall on your ass, the more Norton Security you want install for protection. With all do respect, f*** that.
Whether you're chasing a dream or falling in love, life will always be about the risk and reward that comes with following your heart. Without love and passion, you are limiting what you give back to others. The more risk you take, the more chances you have to eat shit. That's life. But what's the alternative? Not leaping into the unknown and seeing where the journey takes you? Having your whole life planned out minute by minute? Not taking a chance on love because your scared that you'll mess it up somehow?
I don't know about you, but I'll choose falling on my ass and heartbreak any day. I'd rather risk getting hurt than risk being content.
What's your evolution?