The Checklist

What's your love language?
The question on the screen stared into my soul, mocking me with every taunting letter in every dense word. I felt foolish, fifteen years old, taking love quizzes online as I sought out to find my "one". I couldn't bring myself to understand how all the catty girls and all the immature boys created romance with so much ease, hopping from one relationship to the next; Each one following so closely behind the other that it was fairly easy to become dizzy from all of the redirection.

Oddly enough, I wanted that for myself. I wanted a whirlpool of experiences, sending me looping and twirling in a lovesick spell. I didn't quite care much about with whom or how it happened. I just needed it to happen. That's how I found myself where I am now. Staring at a checklist the length of the Declaration of Independence. All I was missing was my signature signed, sealed, and delivered in blood, confining me to a well-established plan as I searched for my mystery man.