vinylgirl's Diaryland Diary

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I would love to take you to Paris

I just don't want to be made a fool. I am trying my best to at least glance briefly before I jump out of a plane. With love there is no parachute and gentle landing, it is only you and your instinct. If you go on a hunch and guess wrong, you could end up splattered against the ground unrecognizable. It's that inevitable leap of faith again. You close your eyes, kiss the necklace around your neck, and jump with the faith someone packed you a parachute and not an anvil.

Sometimes I wish I trusted people more. It seems so difficult to have true faith in anyone these days; everyone is looking for their leg up. In this insecure world we tend to suspect everyone and we keep our guard up. We hold our purses tight to our chests when we walk late at night. We watch our drinks carefully. We calculate the odds the next man we date will cheat, the odds we'll get pregnant, our compatibility before our heart has even had the chance to feel. Sometimes the weather report is wrong and it doesn't rain, but you carried an umbrella around all day. You wore a coat since the forecast said it would be chilly and then find yourself carrying it on you arm or tied around your waist. I remember when my family used to go to Wonderland even if it was pouring rain because we had faith it would clear up, and usually it did. So where is the faith when it comes to matters of the heart?

I snooped, a little. As ladies usually do when they begin to have feelings for someone. Whether you snoop through gossip or through websites, you snoop because you need to quiet the naysayers in your mind. So I browsed through his profile on this internet community we are both on. And there it is: two messages from a cute girl with a flirtatious undertone. Naturally I browsed her profile too, to size her up. Is she prettier than I am? Does she share his sense of humour? Are they good friends? She's attractive for sure and it appears they lived in the same residence in first year. His message to her: "You looked pretty hot on Saturday night" and "Don't be a stranger." My heart flops down to my stomach and gets singed by the acid.

I am unsure if I can trust him or not. "Let's wait until the summer when we can be more private" we agreed. But we all know what can happen to the best laid plans. Of course I knew things could change entirely in a month and I had my doubts, but there is nothing like a pang of jealousy to shock you into a stance. So here I am with feelings for him, feeling pretty low. Maybe he changed his mind and he is not as interested in me anymore. Maybe he is high-fiving his buddies and showing them this hot girl who is messaging him. "I would love to take you to Paris."

Standing at the edge of the plane with my hands clasped to the doorframe I inhale deeply, I have to decide if I can make the leap of faith and trust there is a fully functioning parachute on my back. Am I willing to take the chance? I always wonder about the people who get thrown from horses or don't have the parachute release who live to tell about it or live to do it all again: are they mad? Or maybe they just have more faith.

Alli xo

11:45 p.m. - 05/04/2006

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