The Compilation

Frisson

I get shiver of pleasure when I see him. It's called frisson - a shiver of pleasure. I get frisson. It's something about him that makes me feel safe, but that same feeling makes me terrified. I'm terrified that feeling will disappear, or that he'll one day force me away.

It scares me to feel this way towards someone. To feel this strong connection that just makes me smile. I know he won't hurt me, but just the idea makes me want to curl up in the fetal position and cry. I don't, or course, but I instead face my fears. I somehow gain confidence to leave my house and make the heart-pounding, five minute skateboarding ride to his house.

But I love the feeling he gives me. The way my heart pounds whenever I go to see him. The warm, fuzzy feeling whenever he looks back at me. The feeling dragons flying around my stomach whenever he calls me beautiful or cute or pretty. My cheats heat up whenever he kisses me and I hope to God he'll never notice that.

He's so determined to make me believe in love. I love that about him. I love how hard he's trying. I love how he looks at me with his eyebrows scrunched together all confused and such.I love how he calls me adorable when he catches me staring. I love how sometimes I catch him staring. I love how he tolerates my music, sometimes. I love how he never has anything bad to say about me. I love all these things about him, yet I still don't believe in love.

By definition, love means a feeling of strong or constant affection for a person, but that's not what it really means. The real definition of love is being able to see someones imperfections and still find them perfect. Whether it be physical or mental imperfections, you'll find it perfect on them. Love is giving someone the power to kill you but trusting them not to. Giving someone a gun pointed at your heart, and trusting them not to pull the trigger.

I'll admit, I do like him a lot; flaws and all. His flaws are what make him who he is and I like who he is. And trust me, he has a lot of flaws. His past is what makes him strong and special. And he had a rough past. I didn't need to know his past, but he trusted me with it. He trusted me in knowing how he became the person he is today. For some reason, he trusts me altogether. For some reason, he showed a sign of love.

No one has been able to calm me down from an anxiety attack. No one has been able to calm me down in general. Not one has let me put on my music and hasn't complained about it. No one has called me cute for staring at them. No one has stared at me and said they were "admiring" me. No one has ever bought me a CD from one of my favourite bands. No one has followed me out into the middle of the night in a rough neighbourhood just to make sure I was okay. No one has forced me onto a walk just to get me to talk about why I was upset. No one has ever been so determined to prove me wrong.

He's not perfect. He takes forever to reply. He makes bad decisions. He gets defensive. He listens to terrible music. He doesn't always think. He can't catch a hint. He's clueless. He's so immature at times. He makes me want to rip his head off sometimes, but that's what I like about him. He's so imperfect. And he knows it. But all his imperfections in a weird, twisted way make him perfect. He has messed up in life and apologised for it. He protects the one's he loves. He's nice and funny, but can also be mean and scary. He encourages me to do things that'll help me in life and discourages things that'll hurt me. He likes me for my personality. He likes me for everything I hate myself for. He doesn't think I'll get annoying, yet. He likes the fact that I'm clingy and live off of affection.

I know he's going to get annoyed with me one day. And I know he won't like me after awhile. I just know these things from experience and a lot of books. But I don't know. I'm just hoping he'll be different. All my friends tell me he is. They trust him. They like him. They think I'm good for him and that he'll treat me right.

God, it's like everything he says makes me like him even more. He always says that to me and I can never believe him. I can never pull myself to believe him. I'm so scared of him sometimes. I'm so scared that he's going to hurt me. I'm scared he's just going to give up on me and not care what happens to me. I'm scared that he's going to just forget about me and leave me on the sidelines. I'm scared he's not going to like my friends or eventually not like me. I'm afraid he's going to hurt me and I'm not going to notice. But damn am I crazy about him.

Okay, so maybe love is real. But I certainly don't know what it feels like. Maybe this is love. Maybe this is just a huge crush that I'll get over soon. My heart beats so fast when I think about him. It gets hard to breathe when I talk to him because I'm so scared I'm going to say the wrong thing. It hurts my brain when I look at him because so many thoughts about him just come rushing in all at once. He gives me so much to think about. I just love everything he does for me. I just love everything he does to me.