Stranger

Stranger danger. We're taught the warning phrase from an early age, to remind us that those whom we don't know are a potential threat. At seventeen, I'm finding this to be more true than ever. A new boy suddenly walks into my house and subsequently into my life. . .and I'm terrified. What did he think it meant when I asked him if he wanted to do something fun before he went to bed? Or better yet, what did I mean?

We found ourselves playing ping pong as the conversation progressed. Less than 24 hours after meeting him, I'm finding it hard to still call him a stranger. But he still remains a threat, no doubt. A threat to my privacy, to the casual relations I've been having with a friend. He arrives, and suddenly all my thoughts of other boys leave me. His hands find mine as my eyes get lost in his. He moves closer, giving me every opportunity to back away, yet I know I can't back down.

He threatens the stance I've taken against boys after a recent poor encounter with the male species. He admits his emotions and doesn't hide from his life choices. This stranger finds me questioning not only the rhythm we've morphed ourselves into, but also the reason I allowed the rhythm to develop in the first place.

Maybe it's him, or maybe it's my mind challenging me to denounce what I've been taught for so long. Maybe he's not the danger, pouring water over the promises of chastity I've recently chalked up. Or maybe, just maybe, the danger is within me as I try to decide who's more of a stranger, the boy I've just met or the girl I've finally become.

I Won't Believe That Romance Is Dead

We don't know what romance is. Our generation is fond to the idea of love, but this concept of romance is so far lost on us. We know lust, some of us even know love. We know the eagerness and yearning we have for someone we know we'll never have. We know the heartbreak and soul crushing pitfall of learning that what we love and who we love don't match up.

Dates and courtship have been replaced with hookups and 'game'. And that's just what it is to most people these days--a game. Dating used to be a concept in which two engaged in a relationship, hoping for the ultimate goal: marriage. Yet nowadays, relationships are seen as disposable. People are dispensable. The idea of a relationship is lost upon us all.

We have relationships with friends, we have relationships with superiors. We constantly engage in relationships, most of which we guard ourselves from. Name one person who knows every single one of your deepest secrets. If you can think of two (aside from your therapist and mother), you're in the vast minority. Most can't even think of one. We keep ourselves guarded so that when the relationships fail (because our generation undoubtedly feels it will), we've still got a piece of ourselves to hold onto.

We need to retain a piece of ourselves, for we fear giving it all to one person. We remember the love of our life from the 7th grade, the one that ripped up the post-it-love note we gave them on Valentines Day. We think of the fact that the divorce rate in our country is over 50%. We're taught to think that people and relationships are simply disposable. Don't put too much time nor effort into it, for you're only fooling yourselves.

What happened to believing in love the way Disney characters did? What happened to playing "house" as children and accepting two mommies, two daddies or one of each? It's crazy to me that six year olds are more interested in marriage than 26 year olds who've been dating for four years. 

Instead of chastising today's generation for our lack of emotional depth within relationships, let's set a different standard. Let's recreate a culture built off of romance. One in which both men and women hold doors open for one another. One in which women cover up and look classy and respectable for dates. One in which maybe, just maybe, we begin to believe in love once-more.