Suitcases and boxes sat in an assembly line fashion in my bedroom. The two-week mark into my summer had approached, meaning that spring cleaning was far overdue. I was finally ready to unpack, but first I turned on my all-time favorite song, She Will Be Loved by Maroon 5.
“Beauty queen of only eighteen
She had some trouble with herself
He was always there to help her
She always belonged to someone else”
They say there is nothing like your first love. That must explain why five years later, the walls of my bedroom still gleam the fluorescent bright green color we painted them, despite the not so bright outcome of our relationship.
“Look for the girl with the broken smile
Ask her if she wants to stay awhile”
I thought to myself– okay I can worry about my wall decorations later, when lo and behold, I stumbled upon my sophomore year yearbook that’s titled “What I Have Become” in big red letters. Interestingly enough, my sophomore year signifies the year I fell in love for the first time. Anyway, as I read through the two-page note written by my first love in my yearbook, something hit me. While there laid the notes and memories spelling out what I had become at that time in my life, I could only wish to read words printed in big red letters spelling out what I will become for the rest of my life. Something else hit me too, I still needed to unpack.
“I know where you hide alone in your car
Know all of the things that make you who you are”
My bedroom used to be the one place I was not scared of being alone. However as I was spring cleaning, I was distracted by the realization that my safe haven was suddenly threatened by that very fear. Whether it was due to a flip of my yearbook page or a blink of an eye, all of a sudden it had dawned on me what I had originally thought made my bedroom so safe. What I had conducted to believe would make my room a place of security, in fact, made it the complete opposite as a result of coping against the thought of being alone. My bedroom wound-up being my biggest contradiction as it had evolved into a memorial for all my past relationships.
“I know that goodbye means nothing at all
Comes back and begs me to catch her every time she falls”
I still have the one thousand paper cranes that my first love folded for me, which is located in the same room where my second love’s plaid shirt is folded for my keeping.
“Tap on my window, knock on my door
I want to make you feel beautiful”
As the song concludes with the words,
“Please don’t try so hard to say goodbye”,
echoing in the background of the chorus line, I cannot help but recall all the instances when I had tried and succeeded at saying goodbye– all the more reason why I fear being alone in the end. But the mere fact that, without even trying, my bedroom had practically been transformed into a gallery of others’ hearts that have come and gone, only further indicates that my fear is illogical.
No big red letters need to be printed in order to spell out what will become of the girl that was once loved in the yearbook, because she will conquer her fear of being alone since she knows that:
“She Will Be Loved”.
PS- Fun facts about the Author: this article stemmed from what felt like one of the most realistic dreams I have experienced in awhile! Also the cutie-patootie photographed in the picture above is my little sister who is not only “literally, darling”, but she is/and will forever LITERALLY be loved.
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