Author’s note: If I’ve learned anything in my 5 years of blogging, it’s that I probably shouldn’t write late at night because that’s when I tend to share too much. But sometimes I just do it anyway. And since a version of this very post has been saved as a draft since the end of August, perhaps it’s time to just hit the publish button and get it all out there.
I’m a romantic at heart. Deep down, I have this belief that things will work out for me in the best way possible* and that even at 33, I will someday meet someone and we’ll have our happily ever after.**
It’s weird to me, that I’m a romantic. I mean, I guess I always have been a little, but it still seems weird. It doesn’t fit with the person I perceived myself as for a long time. I preferred to spend time alone, studied, read, knitted, etc. I tend to do things like go out and get tattoos at random. Well, not at random, but sometimes I do weird things like that on impulse. I don’t know why this doesn’t jive with the idea of being a romantic, either.
I think what surprises me more is that I am still of this belief even when I see relationships dissolve around me. When people you thought were good together maybe weren’t so much. Or maybe they were, but neither could see it at the time. When I see people make decisions that result (eventually) in divorce. Even when other relationships fall apart, I still think that someday I’d like to try that, anyway.***
I’ve been feeling a bit melancholy lately and wishing that I had someone to spend time with, someone to share my day with, all that mushy romantic crap that I don’t have at the moment. I wish that I was that person who didn’t care if I ever fell in love, settled down, and lived happily ever after, but I am not. I care. I want someone to spend time with, who will be there when I’m sad, who will make me feel happy and loved every day. I’m not talking happy all day every day, but just that I feel happy at least once a day. I don’t think this is unreasonable.
There is something inherently wrong when we are taught to believe in fairy tales. We all want our happily ever after, but how many people actually find that? Where is the prince when you need him?
*Not just romantically, either. Not a belief that I don’t make my own decisions or anything, but the decisions I make will lead to opportunities that come at the right time for me. It’s hard for me to explain.
**Again, not that I expect a fairy tale or anything, but the reality of picking up his dirty underwear and still wanting to be with him doesn’t flow as well in the whole thing.
***Just to clarify, it’s not as if I’ve seen this happen to people I’m close to at the moment. In fact, things seem to be going just fine in the relationship department for my friends right now. I’m talking about past relationship failures.