I Used to Be a Hopeless Romantic

I’m choosing to write this at 1 in the morning because I don’t really want anyone to read it. That probably sounds stupid.

“Why even publish it then?”

I guess it’s a sense of liberation, letting certain things like this off your chest. You bottle them up for so long and you feel like there’s something wrong with you because you can’t even understand your own thoughts. So, it’s a form of catharsis to just let it it go and move on.

I used to be a hopeless romantic. 

I used to imagine that I’d live in a pretty house with a pretty husband and pretty children and everything would be lovely and nothing would get in the way. 

And then I grew up. 

It sounds cliché, I know. Isn’t that what every 18 year-old girl who has yet to really grow up says? Aren’t those words for the most immature of us? 

I’m sure they are…but I do think it happened. I think the rose tinted fog that had been wrapped around me for so many years finally lifted. 

It didn’t happen suddenly. It was a very, very slow transition. 

It began with the realization that people lie. That people are hypocrites. That most people in this world will never be able to care for anyone more than they care for themselves.

It is survival of the fittest and I will never win that race. 

I no longer want to have kids. I no longer have some incurable desire to be in a relationship.

In fact, the idea of a relationship often times repels me. It all seems so futile in so many respects. It’s sort of all just one big masquerade. 

[Oh, God, what a metaphor.]

But it’s true! We all wear masks. We all hide behind false pretenses to make ourselves appear more attractive. Someday, though, that mask falls away. It’s unavoidable. It happens to the best of us. 

Life would be so much simpler if there were no masks.

So, where was I going with this? I don’t really remember.

Tonight I was listening to sad music, beautiful music and I was thinking about Pride and Prejudice. I was thinking about how all I used to want was to be the Elizabeth Bennet to some southern gentleman’s Mr. Darcy. I wanted it all to work out just the way it does in storybooks. Fairytales. 

Now, I just want someone who reads books, makes me laugh, likes ballroom dancing, and will put up with me when I accidentally talk too much. (And I could probably even live without the ballroom dancing factor, that would just be a huge added bonus). 

I used to be a hopeless romantic.

Now, I’m just hopeless. 


One thought on “I Used to Be a Hopeless Romantic

  1. Wow! That was a remarkable response. I am currently 16 years old-just turned 16-& I think that was a great response to “I used to Be a Hopeless Romantic.” Same here, but recently I lost faith due to some jerk bag who tore my heart to pieces & loved playing mind games. . .which I wasn’t good at nor did I understand. He was older and already hopeless. He was insecure & contagious.

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