Why I Want Love To Drive Me Crazy, Not Make Me Feel Comfortable

Some girls want to fall into a tranquil, still-watered sea of love. They crave a love that feels like home, like a tightly wrapped blanket tucking them safely away from any harm the cruel, cold world could possibly throw at them.

I long for love just as deeply as any other girl. But I don't long for a love that exists to make me feel whole and calm.

I long for a love that sparks up my tired f*cking heart. A love that pushes me out of the confines of my comfort zone and thrusts me into sparkling new, madly uncomfortable experiences.

I want someone who turns my entire life upside down, like one of those cheap sparkly snow globes that you shake and hypnotically watch as pink glitter falls all over a distorted, upside-down Christmas tree.

Maybe it's because I feel an inherent peace and tranquility buried deeply within myself. Maybe it's because I'm not sentimental about "home" and feel the most comfort when I'm in motion.

Maybe it's because I have finally reached a point in my life where I feel safe alone, where I don't need the presence of a warm body to protect me from pressing danger.

But to me, love is not comfortable.

Love is wild, like a kitten chasing a mouse. Love is an unkempt bedroom after a drunken night on the town. Love is messy and unruly, like my hair after a night of mind-blowing sex. Love is as insatiable as longing for something that doesn't exist and as infuriating as trying to change someone who can't be changed.

Love is so many things. But comfortable it's not.

I want a love that attains the ability to knock the wind of out me and leave me breathless, scratching in the dust, painstakingly nervous and raw. I want a love that’s crazy.

Because I trust myself.

A few years back, all I wanted was a knight in shining armor, an epically strong, stainless steal force of nature that would rescue me from the self-inflicted tethers of myself.

I’ve had a reckless past. And because of the things I've experienced, it’s taken a long time for me to know how to not self-destruct.

Anytime I cultivated something positive, I didn't feel like I was deserving of it, so I f*cked it up, and I sought out relationships with people who I thought could stabilize me.

I was terrified of being lost in my own company because I didn't trust what I would do if I was left to my own devices. I didn't want the people I dated; I needed the people I dated.

Then, I became my own knight in shining f*cking armor and stopped needing anyone. I learned how to rescue myself and parent myself. I learned how to trust my instincts and how to breathe without it hurting.

Which is why I no longer crave being saved. I crave someone who can make me feel a little crazy (the good kind).

Because I crave fiery passion.

When you stop NEEDING a warm body to satiate your pain and purely WANT one instead, a partner is like icing on the cake of your life.

Yes, the cake is f*cking tasty and fulfilling on its own. But the icing provides a sweet little extra on the surface of your tongue.

If I'm going to bring another person into my already-full world, it's because he or she is adding a dollop of passion to my life. I don't need a person as a filler; I need a person who is the firecracker that makes me feel alive.

Because no one can destroy me.

In my 29 years on this planet, I've weathered the storm of two earth-shattering heartbreaks. They were nothing short of devastating and acutely painful. Each left me feeling like I had a gaping hole inside my heart, like I was missing a limb.

But you know what? I survived. And not only did I survive, but I came out a better person on the other side.

When we watch ourselves heal from seemingly impossible pain, we become aware of our own strength. It's through surviving the un-survivable that we realize how resilient we are.

I know now that no matter how deep I swan dive into the tempestuous waters of love and how strong the riptide feels, I will be okay. I know that no matter how bad the bad heartbreak gets, I will eventually be just fine.

Having this reassurance is like having an internal safety net that no one can ever take away from me because it's mine. I've created it. And I can take a risk because I will always have a safe place to land.

Because I'm not afraid of getting hurt.

Getting hurt reminds me I'm a human being. If another person has the ability to hurt me, it means I took a risk and allowed him or her into my orbit. It means I was fearless enough to expose my vulnerabilities to someone else.

If a person goes in and takes advantage of my rawness and crushes my feelings, it sucks. It hurts.

But I'm choosing not to listen to the fear. I'm not going to rob myself from potentially experiencing a deep connection because I'm scared of the aftermath.

In order to have a chance at experiencing an authentic connection, you have to take the risk of winding up hurt.

Because I want to feel the most explosive feelings.

I don't fear feelings. Even the bad feelings make me feel connected to myself. I fear numbness.

What's the point of indulging in the human experience without feeling the entire spectrum of feels? What's the point of a cold, protected existence? I want the big feelings. The explosively massive feelings that inspire me.

And what can trigger the wildest, most intense emotions within us deeper than LOVE?

Because I'm weird, and when two weirdos join forces, they take over the f*cking world.

I'm not glorifying destructive, bad crazy. I don't desire a person who is reckless with my heart and plows through my feelings in the name of passion. I don't want someone who takes drugs, blacks out or cheats on me. That's not my definition of crazy.

I desire the good crazy. I'm reclaiming crazy.

I can't relate to people who live their lives according to perfect societal standards. I want someone who is an unabashed free spirit who speak his or her f*cking mind no matter what. And anyone a little out of the box will always be deemed a little crazy.

So let's fall into crazy, unconventional, love.