third.

Naivete is the subject of the week (and the weeks to come, at that), this week.  I figured I'd get some practice in before I start my actual piece by writing about...well, the subject we're talking about.  Giving some of the other theme ideas some love, or something.  Speaking of which:

Kids, anyone under the age of...let's say 16, just to be a little bit sure of ourselves here, are going to be pretty naive in love.  They're going to be stupid.  I was stupid.  You ask me for a bad relationship story, I say "which one?"  My first "love" was a kid in my elementary school.  He was semi-famous for being able to stretch his ears out and pick his nose with his tongue.  We spent most of our fourth and fifth grade years "breaking up" and getting back together.  Our first kiss was secret, ducking our heads underwater at a YMCA pool for our lips to meet.  We thought we'd be together forever, because we didn't know any better.  I think, by now, he's forgotten about the time he climbed the exposed pipes on the bathroom walls when our school underwent renovations.  It's one of those things I still remember.

It's naive, yes, to think that anything lasts forever.  Love, or life, or anything about us.  Love lasts as long as it can survive, with or without air.  I know people for whom love has lasted for years.  I know people for whom love has died.  I don't like to say "forever" when it comes to love, because I'm not that naive.  But I'm naive enough to think it will last, when I have it.  I don't go into love thinking it will die.  I hope.  I hope, but I don't promise myself or anyone.  If it's a good run, it's a good run.  If it's not, then it's not.

But I know better.  People stop loving people, or people forget people.  I said once that I don't like to talk a lot about my family, so I won't, this time.  I'm sorry.