The Butterfly Effect

On August 29, 2013 by Kim Wetter

No, I’m not talking about that terrible Ashton Kutcher movie nor the phenomenon that it’s about. I’m talking about love (go figure, right?).

NOT this bullshit movie

NOT this bullshit movie

It’s that moment when you first meet someone, or first kiss someone when a pack of butterflies enters your stomach and refuses to leave. It’s a reaction you have absolutely no control over and it always comes when you least expect it.

The first time I experienced butterflies, all it took was a touch. As each one of the digits on my left hand connected with the corresponding ones on her right, electrical waves coursed through my entire body finally colliding in my stomach. I lost all rational thought. It was as if the feeling in my stomach spoke for me and moved for me. I was no longer in control. I had to move closer. I had to kiss her. There was no turning back.

The second time I experienced the butterfly effect was more like a punch in the gut. This second girl stepped towards me and pulled at my waist and then kissed me hard. At that very moment, I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me, but in a good way. When she pulled back, I felt dazed. In that moment, I couldn’t think of all the reasons I shouldn’t be kissing her. I just blurted out, “I have to take you on a date.” It wasn’t my smoothest move of all time but I couldn’t help it. I had to see this powerful feeling through.


Just like this

The final time was almost too cliche to imagine. I had drunkenly made out with this girl at a concert and besides being interrupted by some lesbian on the street who said, “See this is what I want. You guys are inspirational. So cute,” nothing really significant happened or was felt that night. Then, the next time I saw her, she pulls out her guitar and does an impromptu serenade to a Postal Service song. I was done for. From that moment on, electricity filled the air when she was around. I wouldn’t even have to see her to know she was in the room. She moved, I moved. It was magnetic.

Obviously, I’m not with any of those girls now which leads me to the problem in all this:

Now that's just hurtful, Sansa

Now that’s just hurtful, Sansa

I’ve dated girls without feeling butterflies and I always felt as if something was missing so I eventually cut it off. Yet, when the butterflies are present, that doesn’t necessarily mean things are going to work out. I didn’t fall in love with all of these three girls and sure, some of these feelings were stronger than others, but they didn’t quite mean anything in the end. They were these visceral reactions that led me to lose control. I was going to at least try to date each of these girls whether I thought it was a good idea or not. The butterflies helped me ignore red flags and led me to put up with much more than I probably would have had they not been present and ever so demanding of my attention.

Those butterflies may be more of an enemy than a friend in these cases.

And yet, I don’t think I’ll ever date a girl without them. It’s illogical but, in my mind, what’s the point of falling without my winged friends filling my stomach, causing me to do crazy things and leading my heart onward into the great mysterious abyss of love?

And with that thought, I leave you with some Kelly Clarkson… obviously.

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