I’ve Always Hated Rom-Coms

I wanted a love story so badly I decided to write my own. Got lost in the pages and let the world I created take hold.

I’m not sure why or at what point but I have always hated romantic comedies. I’ve always found them to be unrealistic, giving false narrative and false hope.

It’s a joke from the cosmo’s to hate something you crave. And perhaps that is why I hate them, because try as I may, I have yet to find real love. Not the kind that you see in the movies but the kind that you dream about. This love ignites all the senses. It makes the days pass quickly, but the nights seem long. It is a feeling, not of the mind but of the body. The kind of love that leaves its impression on you for life, not just for faded moments.

So I have never liked romantic comedies but I suppose I have never wanted anything more. I am a person obsessed with love but I can’t find it. It is possible there were times I was in love without knowing but the water always gets muddied when you try to compare. And I am not looking to be swept off of my feet like Julia Roberts, this is not the story I seek.

I want a love story that never grows tired, that fills up the room with warmth and quiets any storm. The kind of love that you travel miles for, that you can never quite shake. This love has its own rhythm, a song that never skips.

Looking back on the relationships I’ve had, I just see a girl that was so desperate for love she let herself get lost in the moments, only to find herself alone, in an unfamiliar place. So absorbed by being wanted that thats all I became, as if I was merely a commodity or temporary fix. I was addicted to the possibility of love, even though I knew that in each case the puzzle didn’t quite fit. I was settling for the substitution of love, the kind that would never lead to forever. The kind that feels complacent, as if you have to sacrifice pieces of yourself just to make it fit. So with every relationship, I cut away more and more pieces. Like fine-boned china hiding its cracks ever so much that you could only see them if you came too close to the surface. And I didn’t see the cracks until I crumbled.

I like to say that I needed to be so broken by love so that I could be swept up again and made anew. Because I never again want to be the girl who chips away at herself to make love fit.

I want the kind of love that allows me to be as I am.

This love embraces and asks the kind of questions that make me question possibilities, not my self worth.

I want a love that jumps off the pages, a story as vivid as the world. Someone to spend the days with doing nothing more than being.

This love wont need words to fill-up the space it takes, because it will stretch beyond the walls I’ve built. This love will see me in my entirety. I’ll never have to hide the chapters of my life that I’ve been afraid speak. Because this love will hear me beyond what I say, or write. This love is the kind of love you get lost in but its not a journey you take on your own. Because all that is lost is eventually found. And with this love, we’ll find each other, time and time again.

And maybe I am still lost out there looking for love, but I am not broken, or afraid to say who I am or what I want.

So I’ll let this love find me. I’ll write this story just as it begins…