the butterfly effect

Yesterday, a friend and I had a discussion about what we looked for in the opposite sex. Months ago, I listed some superficial requirements in an old entry. This time around, after much thought, I retracted my answer and replied "Chemistry" – someone who could give me butterflies in my stomach.

When I was a schoolgirl, I placed my crushes on the good lookers. As I grew older, I realised that looks weren't that important, so I went for guys with a good sense of humour. Then I discovered that it wasn't enough because guys who could make me laugh usually have a dark side and would make me cry just as much as I laughed. Then I met a guy who was suave, who made me nervous, so I ended up being dull. I also had one dude who tried to crown me his queen and looked at me with puppy eyes. I couldn't stand his clinginess, so I disowned him, but he refused to leave and camped outside my house while I talked to him through my security door. That was an interesting year. Then I met a nice guy and after three years, it didn’t work out.

So, when I claim that I want someone who is 170cm+ in height, who is witty and who isn't a stingy bugger that only calls me during Vodafone free time, I was wrong. I want someone who can give me butterflies and someone I have chemistry with. It doesn't matter if he's daggy or a bad dancer – as long as sparks fly when we're together; he's the one that I want. Actually, I was serious about how I don't want a stingy bugger; I can't stand tight asses. My point here is, it's been a long time since I've met someone that I'm attracted to, and it's ridiculous for me to bind myself to guys who measure up to such unrealistic requirements. Even if I did find someone who had the prerequisites, the following could happen:

a) Lack of chemistry between the both of us.
b) I feel the chemistry, but he doesn't.
c) He feels the chemistry, but I don't.
d) We both feel the chemistry, but are in denial because we've entered the Friend zone.

This, in turn, throws me back to square one. I'm not in search of a perfect boyfriend or any boyfriend for that matter. Boyfriends are like socks. When you want a nice fitting pair, you can never find one. All the different coloured socks in your drawer and not a single pair go with your sneakers. So why must we all analyse so much? Just let nature take its course. However, if my stupid cupid can see this page, I'd like to ask him to aim properly next time!

Butterflies. When you experience that sense of nerve and anxiety from meeting someone, should you surrender to those feelings or enjoy them for what they're worth? That sensation can be described as paper-thin butterflies fluttering about within your stomach. The butterfly effect works differently for everyone. My butterflies start from that first moment of attraction and then the hopes that he knows that I exist and falls equally in love with me. As he sustains my expectations, the tension just builds stronger and stronger, praying that nothing is going to stand in the way of those butterflies rushing to clinch the pothole of my stomach walls.

I don't need to seriously fall in love right now; I'd be content with the butterflies because I'd rather have the butterflies in my stomach making me feel alive and full of optimism than an empty tummy with no sentiment, no jab in the gut to tell me that this is the one, this could be it. I like the sign even if it's in the form of a butterfly.