“The one feature all perfect women seem to possess is the fact they’re unobtainable”
My best friend bitterly, and drunkenly, tells me at 3 a.m. after I’d spent the last few minutes telling him about…
Telling him about how much I felt, my rational mind trying to put a number on it but failing horribly.
Rationality you have no power in this domain.
You can’t explain why I remember the very place, the very time that I saw her.
Why for weeks her face lodged in my head.
Why I keep the piece of paper I’d torn the corner off of to give her my name so she could message me when she wanted to go for a drink.
Can these be explained?
That even just over a year (trust me I remember the date…) I am still in this place…
Perhaps my friend was right, and perhaps it is true.
We all know the cliché of “the one who got away”. But I always believed that was because they never tried hard enough. Or they didn’t feel enough, therefore making the object of affection nothing close to the value that “the one” would be…right?
I’m a hopeless romantic.
I’m told I wear my heart on my sleeve. And I’m always told this as if it’s a bad thing.
But recently I’ve come under the impression that it really isn’t.
My heart is on show only to those who stuck around, or who I think worthy to have it.
This is me. I’m soft, I love the idea of love no matter what anyone wants to tell me.
And I will forever love like I’m tumbling down a hill.
Out of control, totally bewildered, knowing slightly where I started and want to end up.
But smiling all the way.
Hell, I’ll probably live like this too.
Covered in grass stains and looking through dizzy eyes
Maybe that’s why they call it falling in Love?
So to all the hopeless romantics out there…
You are anything but hopeless. You have this striving in you to always seek that love.
That pure and easy and addictive love.
Maybe you’ll break a few times. Maybe you never will.
Just never stop.
Patch yourself back up with your good intentions and memories. If you felt love, that is a gift.
Pull together what you learned.
Or maybe keep taking the same blind steps, maybe that’s the only way you’ll stumble upon them.
The choice is yours.
Tell the people how you feel.
Forget the looks you may get for being “cheesy”. There is a reason clichés are called clichés.
Everyone wants to feel love, and maybe you can provide it, even just a glimmer of it.
It doesn’t even have to be romantic love.
Tell your family, tell your friends. They need it too.
Society and media, they all give this impression of something that is sort of there, but isn’t quite. They’ve made the idea that it’s something temporary, always getting a new version, always waiting for the next one.
They’re looking at love through a fishbowl, distorted and wobbly.
All these boundaries are words alone. And sticks and stones won’t even stop you.
Be careful with it.
Don’t throw your heart in everyone’s lap.
Despite what I say, a heart is still fragile.
When you know the right person, you will know.
Don’t love because you want to fill a void. Don’t love just because.
Love because the other person’s eyes sit you into the paradox of being totally comfortable and nervous. That is the catalyst.
Just never lose Hope.
Put back on your rose tinted glasses.
Grin at the thrump of that organ.
Filled with dopamine and serotonin.
You are the dreamers.
You are the hopeful romantics.