The Cassidy Boys

Chapter Twenty: Better Late Than Never

Chapter Twenty: Better Late than Never

I feel crazy.

Most people claim that it's completely normal at my age, but it doesn't feel that way. It feels delusional in the most irritating way possible.

A color is no longer just a color. It's a question of whether or not it's his favorite. A song is no longer just a song. It's a question of whether or not he'd be okay if I belted it out in front of him. And a movie is no longer just a movie. It's a question of whether or not he'd be willing to sit on a couch and watch it with me.

Who's he?

Well, he is the male population and believe it or not, they are the source of my craziness. They divide me in half and wage a war inside me with my brain on one side and my heart on the other.

We never realize we put someone on a pedestal until they fall of it. Slow motion no longer slows that person's movements, and angels no longer chorus when you're within five feet of their presence. They're human again as they rightfully should be.

Now is it delusional of me to think that one day I'm going to marry the love of my life? Not entirely. But it is delusional of me to think that some teenage boy is going to waltz up to me out of nowhere and sweep me off my feet when I've barely even spoken to him.

I feel crazy because, for some reason, I idolize the male gender. I, Max McKinney, wholeheartedly admit to my tendency of placing boys on pedestals they have no business being on.

I'd like to blame fairytales and romantic comedies. I'd like to blame teen fiction books and cheesy Tumblr posts. All the things that have corrupted my mind into believing that teenage boys are as flawless as Disney princes, but really, the only thing to blame is the thing thumping around in my chest, the muscle that constantly beats to keep my delusions alive.

I'm not innocent enough to believe that all relationships work out. I know for a fact that life happens. Money gets scarce, people cheat, people lie, people fight, and some people grow apart. Some things aren't meant to last forever, but my heart always decides to play defense in this internal war revolving around boys.

When logic decides to finally pull through, behind all the whimsical corruption that dances around my hormonal teenage brain, my heart still decides to go against it because it already knows. My heart already knows teenage boys aren't heroically flawless with silver armor and white horses to match. My heart already knows that teenage boys are human and that's why I fall for them.

I fall for the boy underneath the knight's visor.

The boy that would not only want to find out what my favorite color is, but also my favorite food, and maybe even my favorite animal. The boy that would attempt to sing along to the radio with me, but in the end would end up just laughing at my expense. The boy that would want to just sit around all day, and watch movies, or even sit on opposite sides of the couch and talk—endlessly, about all the little things in life.

The boy that will see the perfectly imperfect human inside me, and still be willing to fall for it.

I feel crazy, and maybe I am crazy, because I crave a relationship with someone I've never met. Because I have a terrible habit of conjuring up scenarios in my head and wishing they were real. Because I have a terrible habit of wanting the friendship that comes along with the relationship.

The problem is, I may want it a little too much because I've never had it.

I already know that because I've been waiting so long to give someone my heart, the first person that asks for it is going to get it on a silver platter. I constantly remind myself that I need to be cautious, but I'm afraid I'm going to get so swept up in the glory of it. Because I've never been kissed, because I watch way too many romantic comedies, and because I smile at way too many relationship-based Tumblr posts, I'm going to throw caution to the wind, and I'm afraid that my slightly bruised, yet still hopeful heart will only receive its first full crack.