Oh, so that's what chemistry feels like

I showed up in this world, fresh out the womb, playing too much, talking too much, smiling too much, and I’ve only gotten better (or worse) with age. This means I hit it off with people, platonically or otherwise, pretty easily.

I move through life intending for my words to be memorable; hoping that they leave an impression on you, and that when we say goodbye, your day is now better than when I found you.

You’ll enjoy talking to me. It sounds arrogant to say (and I guess it is), but it’s also true. You’re also absolutely going to have a good time with me, and as a result, you’ll likely think we have great chemistry—platonically or otherwise.

And we do. I promise you, if you feel it, it’s real. But I am also aware that I did a lot of the heavy lifting.

And that’s ok, by the way. It’s entirely by choice. I’m the type to engage first, I’ll say hi first, I’ll make the first move; it all feels really natural to me. Ultimately, I want people to feel comfortable around me so I don’t mind being the one to break the ice because I know everyone isn’t good at it as I am. Again, this might sound arrogant (and perhaps it is), but it’s also true.

We might never see each other again, or we might end up being soulmates, but chances are, if you’re presently in my life, I was the initiator. You probably sat next to me one day in class, I decided I liked your vibe and informed you that we were going to be friends (or else) forever (this is a true story).

The result of my forthrightness(?), is that I don’t often get to experience chemistry happening to me. And what I mean by that is, since I’m often the creator and the facilitator, I can’t also be the recipient.

And that’s perfectly ok with me. I’ve never related well to the idea of catching feelings and or ‘falling’ for someone, because for me, things have to make sense. I prefer my feelings to be well thought-out and grounded in something practical. I was never particularly giddy-headed in my youth, and I’ve only become more pragmatic about these things as I get older.

the motto, but and also, famous last words

For better or worse, ‘chemistry’ is always something I’ve considered to be more of a gift I can offer others, rather than something to experience myself.

So naturally, when it did happen to me, I wasn’t really sure what to do with it. And honestly, that chemistry shit will have you feeling like you’re going crazy for real, because excuse me why do I feel like this?

There’s something very nebulous about that initial, intoxicating feeling that comes from an instant connection. As a society, we’ve never been particularly good at defining it, so we resort to words like “spark” that don’t really do it justice.

Because it didn’t feel like a spark. And I always imagined that it would. Something controlled, light, intriguing, but ultimately, fleeting. Chemistry is still a science after all, and science has rules. There should be an element of predictability—it should make sense.

But instead, it felt like three back-to-back shots of Casamigos on an empty stomach (though I suppose that’s chemistry too, isn’t it?) It was destabilizing and disorienting, but I was also having great time? And it wasn’t even that I relinquished control of the situation—it was more like I never had it, and more importantly, I didn’t even notice when I’d lost it. Even more importantly, I wasn’t entirely sure I wanted it back.

(Ask me how I know what three back-to-back shots of Casamigos on an empty stomach feels like)

Something outside of myself was happening for once. A conversation I couldn’t direct, a mood I didn’t set, an experience I couldn’t control. And by the time I realized what was happening, the current had led me way out to sea.

Now I had to decide what to do next: fight my way back to shore or relax into the tide with no idea where it might take me.

I’ve always operated in a space where I need to control every aspect of a romantic dynamic. It’s not so much that I don’t want to let anyone in, but I do want to manage each stage of the entry process. I need single-file, strategically placed metal detectors, pat downs, emptied pockets, fingerprint scans—the works. I don’t play about any part of my life, but I am especially militant when it comes to my heart.

But since becoming a victim myself, I’ve realized that chemistry simply doesn’t work like that. It sneaks through an opening in the fence, comes around the back and whispers something crazy in your ear.

It exposes the vulnerabilities of your infrastructure—the cracks and holes in the fortress you’ve built around your heart. There are seasons that reveal where you should reinforce and strengthen, and other seasons that will ask you to lower your defenses. My sincerest wish for you is the discernment to know the difference.

Anyway, you’re probably wondering what happened next. Am I still out to sea? Safely back on land? On a cruise ship? A jet-ski? Somebody’s yacht?

Right now, we’re just floating— with a big, beautiful, intimidating ocean to my left and right.

Which means fortunately (or unfortunately), you’re just going to have to stay tuned.