“It makes no difference how deeply seated may be the trouble, how hopeless the outlook, how muddled the tangle, how great the mistake. A sufficient realization of love will dissolve it all.”

Emmet Fox said that. I have no idea who she is (or he), but what was said rings true. No matter how wretched your life may be going, if you somehow have the good fortune to find love somewhere along the way, consider yourself blessed. That’s how I felt on April the 11th. It was a Tuesday, weird things happen on Tuesday’s. The previous week I’d got my heartbroken on a Tuesday and on this one, I was going to get it back.

Already that week was going fantastic. I was getting over my pain and meeting new people. I never really knew how many kids existed in my school till I took the time to actually look at it. Meeting new people was one thing, but meeting new guys was another. I was not only surprised by how many people were in the school, but by how many guys were in the school. I wasn’t yet ready to move on yet from what happened but I was ready to consider it.

That was precisely my motive when I went with Nathan to his locker at the end of the day that Tuesday, (that and the fact that I was drooling over him for the past two days also played a major part). Having had the slightest lick at a snow cone, my body was full with energy and I was bouncing off the lockers in a pure state of joy and of intense sugar rush. He had packed his bags and I noticed the time. I was fifteen minutes late at meeting my mum and I had already gotten numerous lectures on being late and didn’t plan on receiving another one. Hastily I gave a goodbye and hugged him, but something was different, somehow it lasted longer and felt more intimate than I expected. I pulled back and all thoughts of my mother and being late and another speech escaped my mind.

The fun thing about kissing is that there are two people, and no words, but you’re still saying so much. Kissing Nathan that day, we talked about so much without saying anything. I told him that I liked him, he told me he felt the same. I told him I wasn’t ready to be with anyone, but for him I’d make an exception, and he just told me that there was something special with us and exploring it would be worth while.

I finally realized that being half an hour late not only entitled me to a sermon but a possible form of punishment as well and no matter how blissfully smitten I was at that point, I had to leave. So I pulled away reluctantly and we walked down to my backpack. On the way there, a shy, embarrassed silence overtook us. “Does this mean we’re going out now?” he asked me. I started doing cartwheels in my head. There was no way to explain the pure thrill elevating throughout my body at that exact moment. I put on my most non-chalant voice and said “Sure, I guess.” The following days, weeks, three months (and counting) we spent together were that of paranoia, frustration, tears, laughter but above anything else and what made me and him pull through, it was love.

“Do you want me to tell you something really subversive? Love is everything it's cracked up to be. That's why people are so cynical about it. It really is worth fighting for, being brave for, risking everything for. And the trouble is, if you don't risk anything, you risk even more.”

Erica Jong said that. I don’t know who she is either. But it makes sense. And when it makes sense, you just don’t think about it.