That One Time In French Class

In high school, you would think meeting your soulmate would be by being exposed to a crowd, such as parties, group hangouts or house parties. I met mine in French class—a guy who has been in my class for two years. We might have exchanged hellos and fist bumps. It was a typical pandemic day where some students were exposed to the virus and had to take a two-week leave and stayed home for everyone's safety. That happened to my best friend, a girl sitting beside me. This guy then sat in the seat next to me. Surprisingly, his intent was to ask me if he could use me to cheat in class, what a classic lazy bum.

I am fluent in French as I live in Quebec, so it was no challenging work to help him with the worksheets. Neither of us intended to grow closer together daily. It was the type of friendship that had potential to be so much more, the type where everyone else in the class sees it coming before they do. Skipping class to go for walks was our thing, as friends; even in cold Alberta weather (-40 Celsius), we walked and talked for hours. To sum it up, we both had no guts to confess. It was months and months of talking without any confirmation that it was even a talking stage until the long-awaited question popped up. I could not be more thankful for the French class I have hated for years.

From high school sweethearts to university lovers, I am proud to say I am engaged to that nerd who wanted to use me for grades. Love really does sneak up on you when you least expect it. You never know; love really is exactly right around the corner. Everyone tends to say university would be a chance at a crazy party life, that it is those years of your life where settling down is the least important in everyone’s minds. After every fight, I made the right choice in settling. It is no fairy tale for sure, a long-term relationship is undoubtedly hard to maintain on top of school. There’s also that concern about losing feelings. I am not exactly sure how to feel or avoid that happening in my relationship, but I do know that I trust in the process of it all. Time will tell, and when it does, I will act on my best judgment.

I have always been one to pick the wrong men to let in my life, not this time. I learned that chasing after a boy will just leave room for lofty expectations and painful disappointment. Now, dreaming is completely fine, but failing to differentiate that with reality will bring you down a sad path. That is what I have learned at least. It is also important to distinguish when the potential boy tends to pass his limits. There must be a personal barrier, I like to think happiness with oneself is the biggest form of love. Because in the midst of it all, losing yourself while maintaining an unhealthy relationship will do nothing but cause pain. I have seen it with many people, I have made these terrible mistakes myself with the boys in my past. I can claim that I will never be brought down to the lowest point of my life again. It is never worth it for a boy. No matter how much forgiveness, the heart would be too damaged to even progress into delivering a healthy type of love.

The timeline of heartbreaks does not mean one has to be closed off to any possibility of finding true love. A healthy one at that. Recovering from sorrow must not mean damaging oneself even further. Moving on is hard, but it is the only way to escape that curse of being heartbroken.