Be wary of the butterflies.

Classes started up again today at the good ole community college. During class one of the girls told our fellow classmate she was  “Ready to celebrate.” Curious and nosy as always I chimed in,  “What are you celebrating?”  I was surprised to here her come back with “Oh, I’m getting a divorce.” This girl looked 18. (she was 21)  Not only that, two other young girls on either side of us also mentioned they had been divorced, one who was married at age 18. I was absolutely stunned. Not stunned enough from asking more questions, however. I asked a few, but this part of the conversation is the inspiration for my blog.

Me: I know I’m really nosy,but can I ask ….did you marry him knowing he wasn’t nice or did he seem nice at first?

Girl: No, I knew he wasn’t nice.  He was abusive. I was just stupid…I thought things would get better once I married him.

The sad thing is, though this is the first time I’ve ever heard anyone being so vocally honest on the subject, it’s the attitude that I think we’ve all had at one point. It’s not a age thing or a gender thing or an intelligence thing…It’s a universal kind of crap thing that seems to somehow happen to all of us. It’s a human thing. We are creatures of habit, of holding on, of wishful thinking,of giving a million second chances…and worst of all, listening to those damn butterflies.

First of all, I would like to say butterflies are fucking stupid. I don’t like using the f-word on my blog but I feel like you should know just how stupid butterflies really are. And I don’t mean the pretty little things hanging on strings pictured above. I mean the feeling of the creatures in your stomach. Feeling ‘butterflies’ is a good feeling, I suppose. All the happiness and excitement and the nervous thrill of having that special someone in our life.  But it makes us do stupid things, it keeps letting go from being an option.  What starts out as the joy of living in the moment can quickly turn into a sour relationship that we hold onto for the sake of those silly bugs we’re feeling. Once the good goes bad but we’re still feeling a million emotions and a million little flying things in our stomach, it becomes not living in the moment but being stuck in the moment we refuse to let go.  And if you really think about it, the person who thought of the whole butterfly in stomachs metaphor was onto something.

Butterflies die. Wings are broken. People change. The rash decisions that we make to hold onto someone forever is all because of a feeling that is going to fade.  I’ve followed those darn butterflies before and in the end, they brought me nothing but pain. I’m married now and this may be weird to say but I didn’t feel those butterflies with my husband. Not at first. I found a lot of things at first, but it was not that crazy head rush or sick to my stomach feeling like it was before. It was a friendship, a makeout buddy, somebody my daddy respected, a guy who respected me and my limits and adored everything about me. That’s what I found in him, and that’s where I went from. Somewhere along the line I found those butterflies but I never went out looking for them, nor was it ever what our relationship was based off of. Right now he still gives me butterflies, touching or seeing or just hearing him gives me chills, but I know one day I won’t feel those butterflies anymore. And that’s okay, because what we have isn’t about a feeling. It’s about commitment, friendship, and a love that goes deeper and higher than any butterfly could ever fly to.  So take that you stupid bug.