Pretty Ghosts

I'm in love. Ok, maybe not in love. But I feel it. Sort of. Well...ok, I guess that's infatuation. I know the difference. The problem? Oh so many problems. First of all, I don't know if I want a relationship right now. Isn't it hypocrisy to go from complete and utter cynicism to romanticism in a single week? What gives? The question is where to begin. It seems I have a problem with falling for the people that I shouldn't, and I know that everyone feels that way at one point or another, but I seriously have a history. This new one (we'll call him Mr. Mentry hereafter to preserve his identity) is not only sweet and smiley and generally darling, he's also musical and deep and romantic. This made no difference to me until now. I didn't really know him well and a friend of mine had liked him longer than I. This (and the fact that I previously wasn't attracted to him in the least) did not encourage hopes for myself whatsoever. It was only a chance meeting at school that sparked my curiosity. And a song that nailed me straight in the gut (in a good way). Tonight, listening to that song (which I had actually heard before, but did not remember how moving it was to me) tears misted my eyes. His voice. The words. It was the kind of song that every girl wants someone to write about her and made me feel instinctively, as I'm sure many other girls have felt, "This song was written for me." Just like the "Hey There Delilah"s and "Must Have Done Something Right"s and "Chasing Cars"s of the music world. I wanted then, so much, to be an idealist again. To believe in true love. To believe that there are men in this crazy unfriendly crap hole of life that DO think of more than just getting in your pants, for God's sake! After this encounter, I had the feeling of soaring, of sighing, of falling. Falling in love? Maybe not. But falling in hope? Truly wondrous and truly unexpected.