love at first sight

The Cure sang about it in Just Like Heaven (“Why won’t you ever know that I'm in love with you”), Drowners sing about it in You Keep Showing Up (“Before anything had happened/I was thinking that the end should be tragic”), even JAWS sing about it the entire way through Speak Too Much, Feel Too Little on their debut album. Love is a hot topic that literally every musician sings about and, although a tad repetitive, I think listeners feel that it’s something that really resonates within them. But love at first sight is something a little different.

There's a bit of a debate as to whether you can actually be looking at someone and realise in that instant that you are in love with them. Personally, I believe that you can have that moment of realisation that, holy shit you might actually be in love with someone, because I've experienced it twice. The fact that it didn’t last isn’t due to the fact that I had the epiphany, it’s for other reasons like moving colleges or just not being dynamic enough, but I guess it’s enough to have had your heart belong to someone else in a metaphorical sense. You can be driving along listening to Two Door Cinema Club staring out the window and realise that you actually do love them and by that points it’s probably too fricken late to do anything about it, but that doesn’t detract from the fact that it happened. The other time it happened to me was when I was standing in the science lab watching everyone else watch the teachers physics experiment and I was looking at this boy who I’d known for years and was like oh fuck I think I love him. It’s really odd. It sounds so cliché but it feels like everything sort of falls into place like where it should be and things make a lot more sense and it’s a bit of a relief to finally make sense of what these feelings were that’d been building up inside of you muddled about inside your head for days, weeks or months.

Last night my friend threw a really successful house party. In History and Economics A2, if they ask you about success, you have to define what you interpret success to be so this is what I want to clear up now. To me, success at a party could be getting absolutely fucked and sometimes that’s fun, other times its more about letting go (not even necessarily with alcohol) and having a good time in a relaxed atmosphere with friends and other people who you love, and other times its more interesting to observe everyone around you doing those other 2 things. Last night I learnt so much about my friends and other people and what it really is like to be an 18 year old kid in 2015. I drank 2 sips of crappy peach snaps, ¾ of a bottle of lemonade and then pissed it all out so, as one of the most sober people at the party, I could be an observer for the night which was really fun to be honest. Sitting about in summer houses watching couples interact, even if it is slightly saddening because you’ve been alone all your life, and watching friends talk over a bottle of crap Aldi wine is so interesting. Going out to the stoners table and just having a cigarette and chatting a little bit is another place to go and see people. Inside at the drinks table and on the dancefloor watching people you know loosen up a bit is funny and insightful and the swivel chairs at the breakfast bar are my favourite place. The upstairs bedrooms are an aspect of parties that I'm yet to explore but I guess these things happen in their own time and if you rush them you’ll probably end up regretting it. But the point I'm really trying to build up to here is, last night I was making a vodka and lemonade and the most breathtaking boy you’ll ever see walked in the room. Now I pretty much knew that from this point on I was fucked because the way he pushed his growing dirty blonde hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand and his this agonising look in his eyes and the fact that he actually pulled off white jeans and combat boots, made me spill lemonade all down the cupboard door. So as I dashed about for a napkin to clean up the mess I’d made I was a just little bit smitten with him and following him about subtly and smoking whenever he was outside smoking wasn’t a good idea because now I never know when the world is going to put us in the same room again.

But sitting in the middle seat of the people’s carrier with my head leant against the head rest driving away from Mersea (we had to leave so early like 23:50 so we didn’t get stuck there because of the tide) was a weird feeling. I felt like I was going in the opposite direction and I should’ve still been in that house trying to look at him over someone’s shoulder or over an ashtray. I guess I'm obsessing over it because it feels so unfinished. It’s like reading a story that someone is posting live on Wattpad or on Tumblr or something and you have no idea what's going to happen because it hasn’t even been written yet.

I've spent many a morning lying on the naked chest of my imaginary S.O. and it comes with being someone of my age I think, maybe it comes from constantly being stuck in this weird mindset that you see so rarely in people of this age. I think that everyone’s a little bit lovesick and the whole world needs a hug or a time out.