Manhattanvixen’s Blog

No, get your mind out of the gutter, its NOT lesbian, it’s L.O.V.E.: Love.  Love was the word that made us think past dancing the night away with an eligible pseudo bad boy with a guitar or the cute soccer player from Bermuda.  The L-word made us start thinking about first kisses. 
 
Well maybe the first one or two wasn’t so much love as a groping wrestler at a chick flick named after a Bon Jovi song or a stolen kiss during a Boyz II Men song at a dance when the chaperone was being distracted; but it did come soon after.
 
My first love informed me that he loved me in French,: “Je t’aime”, my older – he was in high school already – boyfriend said at the end of a phone call.  What else was a girl to say except “Moi Aussi.”  Even then we knew better than not saying anything at all, but saying it so soon, well that made it real.  That is where the stakes rose. 
 
It was a new rush.
 
A new game.  Until it caught up with us, until the first love faded.  We were confused how the phrase I’ll love you forever faded in just weeks and therefore realized it was another compliment to collect but not give out, you know, unless you really saw a future with him – and who doesn’t meet their one true love before they finish going through puberty?
 
We spent many years saying it falsely, pleading the fifth and answering with comments like “oh thank you” and “no, you really don’t” but then calling each other the minute we heard it and from who and all the scrumptious details we could recount to the other ‘mean girls’ who would jealously listen. 
 
Now just because we were well rounded and shared so much, remember, this doesn’t mean we were actually nice to each other, not by a long shot.  There was always scheming and fights and feelings hurt and other personal wins within the group, you know, when the boys were boring us. 
 
This is where we learned the art of obsessive advice and butting into each others lives where we really shouldnt…

But I diverge.  Love is the topic of today.  The topic was brought on by a trip down memory lane which was sparked by searching through an old caboodle case.   The case housed years of letters, love letters, from my summer camp years.  The problem was that I didn’t remember who half of these guys were and they were pledging to love me forever.  The notes spoke of marriage, futures and frilly things that little girls love, but I wasn’t that little girl.  I wanted a career and these thing reminded me at one point I thought it was simple and easy to have it all.
 
Well life throws funny things at you.  Maybe it’s ok to play these games at kids, play with real life.  Throw around the L-word, promise an older man you will marry him, just as soon as you turn 18 and all this without sex in the picture – times have changed. 
 
And maybe life takes a funny turn and shows you that these things are important and not fleeting.  Either way, the L-word, used so much so long ago.  I don’t believe I’ve ever really truly meant it to a grown up man, some people might find this ironic or even say its karma. 
 
I think I learned and I played young enough to protect myself and now I know what I want and its not false promises.  Just one real one, that is when I’m good and ready and done playing the field.
 
xVix