My whole life, I didn't really know what love felt like. Of course, I loved my family, and I cared a lot about my friends. But, the love I'm referring to is that of which you would share with someone you were fated to meet. I have had three boyfriends. One with whom I did say I love you, however, I knew in my heart I did not truly mean it.
In all the songs, in all the movies, in all the books, one was to get butterflies in their stomach, to smile whenever they thought of them, to always be thinking about them, to get restless night's sleep, to not want to eat. I never got that way.
Growing up, we never showed much negative emotion. We never wanted to seem weak. And, I think that's why I get really shy and awkward when someone cries or why I laugh at death and all that. I just don't know how to handle the emotions, and laughter just bubbles forth.
For five years, I thought there was something wrong with me. Sure, I was a little sad when I broke up with my exs, but I was over it in about an hour or two. Not even. No joke. It just never affected me negatively. I just figured it was the path I was going down, and if they didn't want to go with me, that's fine. There would be others. But as I got older and was still not feeling real love, I began to get worried I'd end up alone.
When I was in my last two relationships, I didn't ever want to do anything with them. I put my friends at the forefront. Which, is all fine and I would never change that, but I never made time for my boyfriends. I didn't want to deviate from my routine.
I liked the idea of a boyfriend, not the actual boyfriend.
My roommate would tell me I had to give it time, to let love just happen. It was going to surprise me.
Well, holy shit did it surprise me.

It all started August 4th. I had gotten home from work from the golf course, and I was IMing with my roommate on facebook. I was telling her about the golf pro (To whom I had sent a friend request, which he had accepted) that I was crushing on, and she made me make the first move and talk to him. So, I did. IT went really well, and we talked the next night, too. Monday night, he invited me out (it was like 10:30 at night), and I said I couldn't. I didn't want to be all awkward and show up at a bar I didn't know. The bar scene isn't really my thing, so I didn't want to risk it.
I was telling my other friend about it, and she was telling me that I was never going to find a guy if I didn't take chances and get out there. It really scared me, actually. She was right, of course.
So, Wednesday night, he invited me over to his place to pick up a tv he was getting rid of, and ever since then, we've been texting practically nonstop and hanging out.
I haven't felt well since August 4th. For a full week, I felt the butterflies in my stomach all day every day. I wasn't sleeping at all because all I could do was think of him, and other nights, I'd be out with him until 1 or 2, and I'd have to be up at 6 the next morning. I wasn't eating because I wasn't really hungry. It was awful.
I understand now that that's what love does to me. I still don't feel well, but at least it doesn't feel like my chest will burst, and I can eat food- not a lot at one time, though. And, I've been getting a little more sleep. All the songs make sense, now.
I love this feeling I have now. A week ago, I hated it. But, I'm good now. :)