... If my thirteen year-old counterpart could see me right now, she would not be pleased.
For starters, I'm 20. She'd wonder how the hell I'd managed to age 7 years without her noticing.
on a more serious note, I'd think she'd feel a tremor of shock to find me without some sort of team-gear, or sports-team affiliation.
... you know, no olympic medals, scars from climbing everest, wheatie's box deal... the usual lineup.
What every 20 year old previously involved in athletics obtains by 20, right?
She'd probably also frown in my general direction after seeing my romantic tendencies. With deft aim, she'd chuck a few choice books at my nose.
"What happened to true love?!" she'd snap. "What happened to never ending loyalty, blinding faith in finding that one, the total devotion to the first deep, intense, emotional rollercoaster?!"
... [keep in mind, my 13 year old self prided herself on being "deep".]
I'd pick up the book, and rub my nose for quite a bit - hopefully thinking carefully before I answered her.
Hopefully.
"Look, Dani - " I'd start, but she'd cut me off.
"You went down the path that you swore you'd never even set foot on! You can't possibly think this is right!" She'd be looking me in the eyes, but she'd be fuming, and thinking rightfully so.
"Yes..." - the answer would be slow, drawn out. "But - can you fault me?"
Her mouth would open, I'd cut in this time.
"Dani, right now you're used to watching other girls dating boys and pretending that you don't want to see what that's like. You concentrate on the concept of true love because it keeps you separated from your worry that you'll never have a chance at it. Next year, someone will say "I love you" and you will run as fast as possible in the other direction - and it'll happen two years after that, and again, you'll flee. For good reason, but still... at 13, love would overwhelm you. True love could chuck a book at your nose and you still would have no idea what it is - you just would know that you wouldn't want it. Not now. Not at 13. In fact, not for a while."
... She might actually listen at this point.
"I'm not telling you to become the town whore. I'm not even telling you to *try* to date guys - if you decide that a hasty retreat is the best idea, listen to your gut and get the hell out of there. However..."
An eyebrow raise. Touche, 13 year old memory.
"Well, do what makes you comfortable. Just don't expect any knights in shining armor."
Now a sigh.
"Fine - expect what you will. Just try not to be so serious. At 20, its the unexpected that well... uh... well, just roll with the punches. Life gets more interesting that way."
She grips her book.
"I still think you sold out."
My turn to raise an eyebrow.
"I know. I kind of did. But... compromising isn't the same as changing who you are. If you're rigid as a freaking board, someone's going to break you and there's really no way to fix that sort of damage."
"... did you just quote Mulan or something?"
"Maybe."
"You're too old for Disney movies."
"My darling Danielle Elizabeth Meier, if there is one thing you must learn from this encounter, one is never too old for Disney movies."
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From what I understand, a full suit of armor makes for a very awkward hug. And I think even your ever-patient 13 year old self would quickly get bored of a guy who spends all day sitting at home, polishing his armor, and muttering about the dragons that got away.
Or there's always good ol' Doug: "As she dabbed each tiny plastic cup into her eyes she reflected that if there was one thing life had taught her it was that there are times when you do not go back for your bag and other times when you do. It had yet to teach her to distinguish between the two types of occasion."
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