Huffington Magazine Issue 85 | Page 29

Voices the apartment (or, in some of those cases, dormitory building) before anywhere from one to four different guys profess an interest in being her next boyfriend. There is a constant stream there. She’ll make her interests known, of course, but she always has options. She could sit down on the floor, be still, and wait, and I honestly believe that somebody would show up, sooner or later, to ask her out. This is what I like to call being “a lighthouse.” Lighthouse people are beacons that call all the sailors in ships back to land, beckoning them in toward the light. Lighthouse people are magnetic and luminescent, so much so that even when one sailor manages to row all the way to land and climbs up into the lighthouse, the rest of the sailors will stay out there on the water, waiting for their chance to come to shore. They will feel that it’s always best to keep an eye on the lighthouse, even if they have to come and go due to other sailorly obligations. The lighthouse might act like it doesn’t know it’s so popular with the sailors, but it does. How could it not? Even if the lighthouse has a special sailor for the moment, its light is always on. It can’t help it. KATIE HEANEY HUFFINGTON 01.26.14 Now, I’ve had it pointed out to me (by a bunch of boys who couldn’t possibly understand the metaphor) that this is not how lighthouses actually “work.” These jerks tried to tell me that lighthouses are actually there to keep sailors away from particularly dangerous shorelines, because otherwise they’d crash into the jagged rocks found there. I mean, fine. If you want to get technical about Rylee, since the time I met her seven years ago, has dated nine people. This is probably not remarkably high... What do I know?” certain structures’ designated functions, then yes, that is correct, even though I think that’s dumb because people and creatures are drawn toward light and if lighthouses really wanted to keep people away from rocky shores they’d be big audio speakers that played scary ghost sounds. But I still think I’m right, in the metaphorical sense. And the lighthouses of my world are big, sexy, maneaters. They don’t even try to be that way. They just are. I am not a lighthouse.