My college essay, written at age 16. This is “My Love Affair with Words,” an affair that is still hot and heavy 10 years later.
Words
I am having a love affair with words. I have been since my freshmen year of high school. I don’t feel guilty. When did it start? I’m not sure, but I can, however, confidently say that I don’t plan on ever breaking things off.
Words can manipulate. Words can convince. They can adore. They can destroy. Our relationship has not been easy. They can be beautiful, or tragic. This is where we have our differences. I have trouble finding fault in the things that I love, yet words can show fault. They can describe hate, and yet can somehow still be beautifully eloquent. They always make my heart beat faster. Words always make me nervous, and always make me think. I love words because they themselves are magnificent, and I hate them because I can’t hate them, even if the words themselves are devastating.
I have an epic fascination with them. I skim over them, and they always make me smile. I like that words can describe things that are real, but make a singular thing seem so much more complicated. I love their complexity. I love their structure. I love the vowels and consonance. I like that some are simple, and some are complicated. My needs are always met. I can string together intricate phrases, or speak simple ones. I can be versatile with words. I can be random. I can be complicated. I can be understood. Words understand me when nothing else can.
I read my favorite book at age 15. It’s called The Perks of Being A Wallflower, by Stephen Chbosky. My heart melted while reading this book. It left a stain on the floor. I finished it in three days. By the end of those three days I had felt the doubt that Charlie had felt. I had been through Patrick’s life-changing struggles, and rifled through all of Sam’s options. I knew these three friends. At one point, as the three of them are driving home from a night out, the windows of the pickup are down and the music is blaring. Charlie takes in the moment and says, “I feel infinite.” That line caused my downfall. I had fallen for words. There was no turning back.
Our relationship has been steady. I would like to believe that our feelings are mutual. I simply adore words. I cannot get enough of them. I spend nights poring over pages that are filled with them. There are days when I cannot get them out of my head. I feel pathetic sometimes. I should be stronger then to let words control me, but I can never deny them. That is the power that they have over me.
I graduate in May, but when I leave home words will not be left behind. They will be carried with me, and throughout my career they will be read, written, and loved. Our love affair will never end.
I feel like my teenage self would be proud.