Where Did The crazy Acts of Passion Go?

 

At age fourteen

Scotty engraved Sarah's name in to his arm

 

They were not together

They'd never kissed

Or even held hands

 

Sarah didn't see him 

In the way that Scotty saw her

 

She cared for him as a friend

Bit it didn't change how much Scotty loved her

 

He told me once— at recess

That the scar on his arm would eventually fade

And at that point

He would know

That he was over her

 

The popularity of tattoos these days 

Has normalised the idea

Of proclaiming your thoughts and passions— on to your your skin

 

But back in grade eight

That kind of thing

Was pretty unique

 

I don't think it was an act of self loathing or self harm for Scotty

Or maybe it was

But it was also an act of passion

 

And we know that passion can edge on being overly passionate

And therefore

A bit crazy at times….

 

But when Scotty showed me his arm that day

I couldn't help but imagine

How special you might feel to be Sarah

 Scotty felt so deeply for her

That he etched her letters— in to his body

 

At age fifteen

 I had a boy write and perform a song for me in front of all his peers 

Who mocked him for it

 

Then he wrote me a poem entailing his adoration for me

Inscribed onto puzzle pieces 

Handed over to me in a gift box

For me to put together

 

And at that point 

I appreciated what it actually may have felt like to be Sarah

It’s pressured… and a little uncomfortable…

When you cannot return those strong feelings— in the same way

 

Now

As a mental health nurse

I can't help but see those kinds of extreme gestures

Of love for another

To demonstrate a slight lack of equilibrium— in a person's cognitive state

 

But I also look back on those acts and think

By God— those boys hung themselves out to dry

They risked themselves completely 

With no guarantee of any kind of reward or reciprocity

 

And it didn’t matter to them

Because the whole purpose

Was to show their dedication to the person who they loved

 

These days

It seems like people are too scared 

To tell someone that they like them

(Unless if they have had a few beers)

 

Perhaps this is what happens

When we develop insight

The risks feel greater

When have had time to understand our vulnerabilities 

And see our egos 

Under a microscope

 

As adults 

We hold so much more fear

In the decisions we make

Compared to when we were teenagers

It's shows maturity— which in some ways is reassuring 

But it also makes me a little sad

 

So you don't want to etch a person's name into your arm with a stanley knife?

I get it

I don't either

 

But where did the crazy acts of passion go?

And how can we find them again?