No Part Of It

by, Cassandra

---

When I was younger I remember seeing this couple making out in public. Major overload of PDA going on there. My first reaction was the same as any other kid's; immediate disgust. I had groaned, and covered my eyes dramatically, while saying something that my eight year old brain thought was pretty smart. The couple overheard me, and came up for air. The girl laughed, and told me that one day I wouldn't find it disgusting. All I knew was if love was sticking your tongue down another person's throat; I wanted no part of it.

A few years later I walked into my big sister's room, intent on ‘borrowing' a pair of earrings without her knowing. She was on the bed, crying as she ripped a picture of her and her boyfriend into shreds. I'd always told her that she'd be better off without a guy, and she always said that I'd understand when I got older. But as I watched her mope around the house for the next three weeks, I was convinced I wouldn't. Cause if love was crying that much over a stupid guy, then I wanted no part of it.

When I was sixteen, my parents got divorced. I would hear them screaming and yelling at each other at night, and it tore me apart. I was always Daddy's little girl, but I loved my mother. I was scared that they were gonna make me choose. I was heart broken because they where my only role model for relationships. I was angry because parents are supposed to be perfect so that the kids can make mistakes. We weren't supposed to take care of them. Because if love ended up making two of the strongest, sweetest, most understanding people I have ever known give up; then I wanted no part of it.

Three years ago I met a guy, and it was love at first sight… or so I thought. Being with him made me feel safe, made me feel beautiful, special. He treated me like a goddess, and never tried to change who I was. He loved my sense of humor, and wasn't ashamed to be seen with me when my hair was a mess and I would wear my sweat pants in public. I fell head over heels over head, if that makes any sense.

My parents and sister were scared that he only wanted me for my body, but I was convinced that he loved me. Until I overheard him talking about a bet with his friend, a bet that he could get me into bed before a certain deadline. And that he was ‘getting some' on the side, with my so called best friend. After that I decided it wasn't worth it. If love made you so blind that you can't see what's in front of you; then I wanted no part of it.

And now standing here, looking at the woman I've become in the mirror, I still don't know if it's worth it. I don't know what the future holds, what it has in store of me. For all I know tomorrow may be the last day I have to live, and I'm not gonna risk not taking a risk. I'm gonna walk out that door, and live life one day, one moment at a time. I'm gonna walk down the isle and not think about the what if's. Love is a risk, and I'm not gonna chicken out this time.

Because, looking into his eyes, I know this is what love is; and I want to be a part of it.