Perfect Flight

It was quite apparent, even to my young brain, that I was experiencing something new. I was probably eleven or twelve at the time, the time my heart first skipped a beat. Before my heart skipped a beat when I got a new toy or we went to a new place or I read a really good book, this was different, I wasn't sure I liked it.

Of course, as all young girls do, I had thought about the time when I would like a boy in that way, but up until that moment boys had cooties and liked to eat dirt. Now, for some unexplained, unwanted reason their cooties were cute and maybe eating dirt wasn't so bad after all. Alright, so the eating dirt part still was gross but the boys, not so much! That summer my life changed forever. I grew up a little and left the I Hate Boys Club, at least for a time. I would later join a new club, a more educated club, a more cynical boy hating club that comes after your heart is broken a few times. But for now I was entering into a world unknown, a world I had only glimpsed at through my older sister's eyes, a world I probably wasn't quite ready for, but dove into head first. My stomach turned in knots, by heart began to race, I began to worry about my clothes, my hair, my words. The dance of 'does he like me, or does he like her' had begun. It is inevitable, this waltz, with it's highs and lows. No matter what we do biology pushes us onto the dance floor.

My first crush happened without warning, without heed for my mixed emotions and most of all without an instruction manual. I stumbled into puberty scared and excited and most certainly unsure of my right to be there. A rush of emotions come flooding back when I think of this time in my life. There are still mixed emotions but for the most part bring me back to a place of naive wonder and exuberance. There is no doubt that my young foolish heart was broken not too far into the journey but I wouldn't change anything about it. I keep those butterflies of young love tucked into a deep pocket in my heart, letting them out from time to time. We all have those same butterflies tucked away in our hearts, many of us have clipped their wings, afraid to let them fly free. A few, the lucky, have learned to look in wonder at the beauty of naive young love with reverence and have collected a few more butterflies along the way. Today I will let my butterflies fly free, I will feel like a young girl again ready to experience things for the first time, afraid but willing.