I usually do a really good job of being in complete emotional control.

Cool as a fan. Miss Independent. Janet Jackson.

So I’m having a hard time accepting that there are things about me that are out of my grasp of control. Even in times of emotional turmoil I  allow myself to completely submit to the feeling whether its anger, sadness, pity, etc  and that helps me purge it from my system quicker. A day or two of surrender then I put an “H” on my chest and handle it and I’m back to being Janet.

But this is not normal.

This snuck up on me like a sucker punch. There I was minding my own business enjoying the freedom of my “I’m sick of men” phase and BAM, out of nowhere, I saw his face, my heart skipped, my eyes glossed over and my mind was wiped clean of all knowledge and rational thought. And this was just a picture, a two-dimensional image with no name and no personality. I didn’t actually make his acquaintance until a year later and it’s been an emotional bipolar coaster ever since.

This is more than just a “crush”, this is love . I’m uncertain about many things, this is not one of them.

I’ve fallen in love and I can’t get up.

I’m not saying it was love at first sight, let’s not get carried away now!  It started out as a vague wisp of interest. A raised eyebrow. A gentle breeze of intrigue that slowly wrapped around me like a boa constrictor, suffocated the sense outta me and said with a breathy whisper in my ear – “You can try to fight it but you’ll never win”.

Well I did fight it, tooth and nail. I’ve tried to shake it, I tried writing it off as boredom, tried reasoning with it, tried talking myself out of it.  It was no use, I am powerless against it.

Unrequited love, what a stupid phrase. Instead it should be called “Insane desire for the unattainable”.

I thought it would help to talk about it but I was afraid of being judged, picked on or told “Cheri you can do better”, “What do you see in him?”, “Cheri you deserve better than that”, “You know better than that”, “You need to put some space between the two of you”,  “Snap out of it Cheri, you’re a smart rational girl”, “You know it’s a bad idea”, “Stop feeling that way” (my favorite).

All the exact things my girlfriends said to me when I decided to try and talk to them to ease some of my suffering. Thanks girls.

But after the lecturing and barrage of clichés I’m still left in turmoil.  Unfortunately I’m not a robot or an inanimate electronic device. I’m a flesh and blood, bundle of nerves and emotion, human being with real feelings that don’t turn on and off with a switch or a voice command. What I really needed to hear was that I’m not crazy and that there’s nothing wrong with me. Love is not a choice.

And no, I can’t just discard him and hope that with time and space the feeling will pass. We’re actually friends and good friends are hard to come by.

I am in full agreement that I deserve for someone to fall head over heels for me, sweep me off my feet with an urgency and carry me away quickly so that no one else has the chance. And I told myself I would not settle for less than that, I’m definitely worth it.

I’ve traveled a long road to become a self-assured, confident, no nonsense young woman. I know my value and I will absolutely not tolerate any abuse or disrespect. I always thought this depth of emotion happened at a conscious level with the participant’s full consent. But no one ever warned me about this.

I have a very real need to understand and know things which goes hand in hand with my need to be in control. Romantic love is something I constantly struggle with. My efforts to gain control over something that defies definition have been as successful as holding on to smoke with both hands. Logic and reason makes me feel better so I turned to Science for a good solid intellectual explanation. The best I could come up with is that the brain of someone in love mirrors the brain activity of someone dealing with addiction.

Great, I’m an addict.

But hey maybe that means that I should be able to get some mental health/ medical assistance for this.  This must mean there’s some kind of herb I can take to block the neurotransmitters making my brain act all crackish…

There has got to be a remedy for this thing where my brain (or heart) suddenly decides  that I miss him and all of a sudden I get this ache from my throat to my sternum, like a choking- panicked- urgency that dissolves the very second I see his face.

He sends me a friendly text message and my sense of reason (and my sense of self control) dissipates like the smoke I can’t seem to hold on to.  And even though I know its madness, that text message confirms for me that no matter how brief or fleeting

in those few seconds,

he was actually thinking of me.

I’ve gone back and forth between deciding to relax, give in and enjoy the ride, to trying to concentrate, listen and learn the lesson, to agonizing at the realization that it’s going to be next to impossible to find peace in loving someone who has no idea how I feel and certainly doesn’t reciprocate the feeling.      Damn elusive smoke plasma.

I think there is a safety that draws me to men out of my reach. I am free to love fully and completely without the threat of heartbreak or disappointment. The only threat is that the object of my affection will likely eventually meet someone he is actually romantically attracted to. Though this may hurt a little, it won’t be heart breaking because there will be no direct anger, sadness or pain caused by the failure of a relationship only the disappointment of rejection. A feeling that I am no stranger to. And because I love unconditionally I’ll be okay with this because I want for his happiness. Friendship is more important.

Ahhh there’s my control back safely within my reach. Ms. Ashwood if you nasty.

I had considered that my behavior may be some sort of commitment phobia self-sabotage based on the idea that if I invest myself in someone out of my reach I am in no real danger of it not working out because if it never starts it can’t end. Right?

OR do I subconsciously like the challenge?

Nah, I’ve never been one to use self-sabotage as a coping mechanism for fear, nor am I in any way shape or form a thrill seeker. I’m neither spontaneous nor adventurous, in fact I get enough of an adrenaline rush  from a good book, a good movie, a sense of accomplishment when I complete a task,  when he smiles at me… the sincere look in his eyes when he’s listening to me speak… the vibration of his voice… the electric thrill of his touch…

Wait, what was I saying?