On Leap of Faith

My friend has this way of asking about my emotional state that makes me feel simultaneously seen and exposed. "So J, how have you been feeling the past few days?"

Here's the thing about progress after heartbreak: it's less like a straight line and more like a scribble made by a toddler with a crayon. "I've gone from distraught to struggling," I told him, which prompted his confused look.

I tried explaining how there's this vast universe of difference between being emotionally paralyzed and actually wrestling with your demons. It's like the difference between drowning and learning to swim - you're still in deep water, but at least you're moving.

The conversation inevitably turned to Her - because conversations like these always do - and I found myself admitting that yes, I still read books to escape, carefully avoiding Neruda's love poems like they're landmines in my literary landscape.

Then came The Question. The one about dating again, about redistributing all this excess love I apparently had stockpiled. And maybe that's the thing about heartbreak - it doesn't just break your heart, it breaks your whole system of believing in love.

I heard myself saying words like "discriminating" and "cautious," which made my friend laugh because apparently, at 24, I was speaking like someone who had lived through several wars instead of one failed relationship.

"You're too young to be this careful," he said, as if youth was some kind of free pass for reckless heart decisions. But here's what I know: Some people collect hearts like trading cards, and others - well, others believe in waiting for the right story to begin.

We ended up talking about Winnie the Pooh's questionable fashion choices, because sometimes the weight of discussing love and fate becomes too heavy, and you need to wonder about cartoon bears and their aversion to pants.

My friend has now appointed himself as fate's personal assistant in my love life, which would be annoying if it wasn't so endearing. Because maybe that's what friendship is - believing in someone else's happiness even when they're too busy guarding their heart to look for it themselves.