The meaning of life is something that no one has the answer to. It's a question that settles in the breeze and follows everyone everywhere they go. Sometimes it's a distant thought, and other times it's a debate topic. No one truly knows the answer to the meaning of life, not even the smartest people on earth. The meaning of life doesn't just have one answer, it's more related to an inequality than to an equation. Everyone will think differently, which is why this question is so important because depending on what you think the answer is, it shows who you are.
Love. That's the theory I hate the most for what the meaning of life is. I mean, what has love really done for anyone other than leave them to wallow in their self-misery and pity. Okay, maybe that's a bit of an exaggeration, and maybe I'm only saying this because it feels like my heart has been pulled out of my chest, stomped on a trillion times, and then put back, but I'm being honest. Everyone any of my friends have ever dated has broken their hearts and left them to put it back together. And I do understand that sometimes it doesn't work like that, sometimes people date, and fall in love, and get married, and have kids, and then die together while holding the hand of the person they grew old with, but statistically speaking, over 80% of people have had their hearts broken, so what makes me, or anyone, think things will be different.
I fell in love with the one person who made me love myself. The one person who would hold my hand and hug me and treat me like I was a fragile piece of porcelain. Who would laugh at my jokes and look at me like I was the one who made the sunrise every morning. I wasn't looking for love with him, honestly, I wasn't looking for love at all, but then I was, and at the end of it all, I was then one left hurting. He isn't of course, he's single and looking to fall in love again. He did always say he fell in love too quickly.
It's been a couple of months since we broke up, and after dating for almost a year, I finally feel as if I can care about what I want. I always wanted to be the best person I could be for him, never really caring about who I needed to be for myself. I was so dependent on him and his thoughts that I was some kind of braindead zombie who only lived to please, and after everything he did to me, from the insults and the acting completely different around his friends to acting like I was overacting and not taking my feelings into consideration, I stuck with him, and acted like I was completely fine.
I want to date again and I want to love someone as I loved him, but god it's so difficult to act like everything we did never happened when I'm hanging out with other people. He's always in the back of my mind telling me I will never find someone like him, and at this point, I'm thinking it's true. I will never find someone who gave me everything just to take it all away.
I close my Chromebook as I pack up my bag to leave the library. How much schoolwork am I getting done anyways? The whole time I was supposed to write my book report I was thinking about my once amazing love life. I'm in my final year of High School, and then I can finally leave my shitty town and do something with my life. Living in a small town is fun and all until every class you have is shared with your ex, making it a little- a lot- less amazing. Walking through the mostly empty school hallways is kind of like a fever dream, being at school after hours is like a fever dream in general. It feels like you're in some alternate universe where nothing ever goes wrong and the life you're living is filled with pixies and creatures in the woods. I wish life was actually like that.
If I would've known that what happened in the next five seconds would affect my life, whether, for the better or the worst, I might've gone out the other exit, or I might have looked up from my phone just in time to move out of the way, but, what's life without a little chaos? I bump into a stranger as I round the corner to the exit, we knock heads so loudly you can hear the echo, as we both say 'ouch' out loud.
"Oh my god I'm so sorry," I say as quickly as possible as I gain my footing and back away as far as I can. The person- or should I say extremely handsome guy- looks up at me as well, he gives me a sheepish smile as he laughs a little.
"I'm sorry too, I guess we both should've looked where we were going, I'm Sam by the way," his smile goes even wider as he introduces himself, I myself can't help but smile as well. Sam has extremely blue eyes with touches of grey, with clear glasses framing his face. He has dirty-blonde hair, standing a little taller than me.
"I'm Luna," I respond with a smile just as wide as his. Have I mentioned he has a really beautiful smile, like extremely beautiful?
"Well Luna, maybe I'll see you around school, yeah?"
I nod my head as I watch him start to walk away, going in the direction he just came from. I'm not really sure what came over me, but watching him walk away just made me wonder if we could become friends. So once he's a little further down the hall, I hurriedly say his name, and once he stops I jog up to him.
"Maybe I could give you my number? That way we could get to know each other." It shouldn't have been a difficult question to ask, but my anxiety was eating me alive, and had been since I even decided to call his name.
He smiles- which I'm starting to notice he does a lot- as he goes to the phone app, he hands me it, and with a nod of encouragement, I go to put my number in. I also hand him my phone as I tell him to do the same thing.
"See you later luna," and with that he officially walks away, me also walking towards the exit. I'm not sure if it's the sense of satisfaction from getting his number, or the thoughts of me giving a guy my number- which I would've never done when I was still dating- but the whole drive home, I sang my heart out and couldnt stop smiling.
