Never be the same

Camila Cabello's Never be the Same is a song about, well, sex. Okay, everything about Camila Cabello is about sex. Really, though, this song is about what love does to a person's brain. I can wholeheartedly agree that I will never be the same after ... her. 

This is a fan-made video featuring scenes from the movie Nerve, starring Emma Roberts. Strangely enough, I've seen this movie. I guess it's kind of a love story, but it's hard to tell with all the other stuff going on. I think Emma Roberts is an underrated actress, but perhaps that's because I would like to see her in more movies. Hell, I've even seen the Nancy Drew movie she was in. 

All of that is immaterial to this post, though. 

There is a rush that comes with the first flush of love. I don't care if you are straight, gay, bi, or whatever your predilection, you will feel it. It's like a drug, which is what the song relates this first stage to. It's the infatuation stage, the stage where you feel no pain and you're on a high of sorts. You don't even need to eat. The human body cannot sustain this stage for long periods of time without being "satisfied" with some sort of payoff. Often, this high is followed by an intense low because the person we're infatuated with does not return our feelings. Both the movie and song mentioned above deal with the intense high of infatuation. 

Eventually, exhaustion overcomes the high and the mind and body move to the next stage, whatever that is. It's much more sustainable, though. This is where the brain starts making better decisions (hopefully) about the relationship in question. The high has mostly worn off, and what's left deciding to either abandon the relationship or take it to the next level, whatever that entails. 

The last relationship I was in ended, along with the high. There is no taking it to the next stage because there is no next stage once a relationship ends. All I know is I will never be the same. Any other girl could have come into my life, but none could have rearranged me inside like her. I thank her for this silently every day. Even though I've lost all hope of ever seeing her again, it's okay. What happened inside me will last until my dying breath. It's like she touched me with a tiny, glowing ember and started a wildfire in me that shows no signs of abatement. It's beautiful. 

Basically, I'm ruined. I'm ruined in a grand, beautiful way. And I'm glad I'm ruined. She spoiled me in an unbelievable way. She tore into me with a fierceness that surprised both of us. I am destroyed, but in the best possible way. It's hard to put those two concepts together, but it's real. It's true. It's perfect. There is no way to describe the impossible possibility, the unending stream of joy I feel for her. If not having her can feel so perfect and beautiful, what would having her feel like? I'm pretty sure it would kill me.

She may see herself as an ordinary woman, but I see something extraordinary in her. She may never understand why I feel the way I do about her. That's okay. I'm pretty sure there's no possible way to explain it. If knowing I'll never have her can coincide with loving her forever, then what else can be said? My heart intends to enjoy the rest of my life with her tucked inside. That's patience. That's resolve. That's ... proof I'll never be the same.