And so came the day where I actually don't hate people. Well, maybe I do.

Please refer back to my post, I hate people., to understand what this title means and speaks of.

It was March. Winter. Cold. I was in natural hibernation mode, also wanting to die and be torn into a billion particles in my own personal wormhole of stress. I was literally going through a week by week recovery of a mental breakdown. During the Lenten season, I had learned more information about a certain someone who I had painted in my head. That certain someone was the Dorian Gray of my year. A flawless complexion to all who he'd meet, with a locked room of secrets no one were to know about. I was disgusted. I believe I was more embarrassed in myself for falling into their trap of sweet, sticky honey. So delicious, so pure... oh, how deceiving that was.

Since then, I vowed to never put myself through this again. I needed to stop pre-judging (that is essentially what I was doing). And, if I were to begin the little fantasy in my head, I were to swear for it to not go beyond that. If I took the initiative to begin my little 'character sketches,' then I had to make an internal contract to make sure it did not go beyond that.

Ah, but what good would this post be if I didn't go against my own promises? I would not have to be writing this right now. You'd be yawning five times as much as you regularly do whilst reading my posts...

The Prince happened. He will be named The Prince, as it actually was part of his character name from me. I can still remember the first time I saw The Prince. He was locking up his bike one cool, Fall morning after I had left for my weekly trip to Trader Joe's. I simply admired his good looks, and continued on... then, my second run-in was the elevator. Just him and me. And never more did I desire to live on anywhere else but the 2nd floor. Just so I could be on it a little longer. Creepy, I know.

He turned into one of those people you see once, and forever recognize them. Again. And again. And again. And you never acknowledge them, as you don't know them... but you know you have seen them numerous times. I had confided in a friend about this Prince and his frequent, yet random appearances in my life. And I never uttered a single word to him.

I spent the entire year in a fantasy, almost as a joke with my confidant. I knew he had a bike, what floor he lived on, what extra-curricular he did... but I never managed to discover his name. The most essential of portrait-painting. I had a giant list in my mind- all exotic. I began to think in my mind he was an exchange student, that he had an accent- it all began to get absurd. I was beyond any prejudging I had ever done before. I was using this actual being as a physical model for a fictional character. An inside joke. An it had turned into a huge ordeal, as The Prince managed to remain unidentified the entire year.

I felt good. I never found out who he was. I didn't intend to, and I thought, on my last days of my first year in college, it could stay this way.

Let's just say The Prince is no longer known as The Prince. I'm not going to fluff it with some cotton candy-coated transition or detailed explanation, but by a series of fortunate (or, more, unfortunate), purely coincidental, events, The Prince has a real name. He is real- he exists, and he is neither from another country, nor does he have an accent from a far off land. What I did learn exceeded my expectations. They are usually always a let-down, which is why I was skeptical to know more about this young lad.

Ah, but when this whole realization and end to this seemingly endless joke with my friend, I thought back to that March day of when I hated people. Or, more specifically, the person who had caused me to hate people. The question, "Do I really know as much about this person as I think I do?" still comes into play- and no, I never do. My answer will always be that. The thing that is different from March and July are the outcomes. Usually when news of another comes to you, it's for the worst. And, I think, actually, I don't know what to think of this 'good news.' It may have been good to me, but it was definitely bittersweet. First off, I took the risk of tarnishing his fictional image, and second of all... I don't really know much more about him. It's still at a honeymoon stage.

And I want to keep it at that.

No more exploring, as for the first time, this fantasy pre-judgement turned out with positive feedback. If given the chance to get to know The Prince more... what should I do?

What would I do?

I shudder to think. I honestly think I will cut off all opportunities to gain any kind of closeness with him, just for the sake of this dreamland I have built up for so long.

How sick am I?
Am I even sick at all?
Or, sensible?

I don't hate people. Because, now I know, there really are some good ones out there.



Hej hej,
Any