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I Don’t Believe In Fairytales, But I Believe In Love

I like to consider myself a realistic romantic. A romantic that isn’t completely hopeless. A romantic that’s been burned a few times to realize the heart is tricky little bastard and will lead you to terrible decisions, and even worse circumstances. I’m the kind of romantic that can completely get lost in another person, but isn’t hesitant to dial it back when all logic seems to be seeping out of from both ears.

I’m a realistic romantic.

I believe there is someone out there for everyone. I believe we can find love in the most strangest of ways and places. I believe that falling in love with your best-friend is the way to go, and I believe that opposites certainly do attract. I believe one needs to love themselves before they can accept love. I believe in love at first sight. I believe souls can be connected, and I believe you can find love more than once.

But I also believe that not every love story has a happy ending. And though I believe there is someone out there for everyone, I understand that some people will just never find them. I believe that love can be manipulative. I believe that love can easily turn into an obsession. I believe that falling in love with wrong person can ruin it all for you, and I believe Oscar Wilde’s statement of, “The heart was meant to be broken”.

I think I simply believe in the beautiful and ugly sides of love.

There was a time when I used to believe in fairytales. You know the ones where Prince Charming is everything and more. He checks off all the boxes on your list and comes with a glass slipper and a happy ending in tow. The ones where the princess was almost picture perfect, a cliche unconventional beauty.

And then I accidentally fell in love with someone that did not meet my listed requirements at all. Didn’t meet the height requisite. Money? Didn’t have that either. Ambition was there, but severely lacked in my other bullshit mandatories. Yet somehow met the mold of Prince Charming, somehow, someway. And me? Well I was overweight and so uncomfortable in my skin that… well, let’s just leave it at that.

I fought against falling.

I fought hard and lost. But I lost to the unexpected. The unexpected happiness, the involuntary actions of being \ concerned of their well-being more than my own, that unexpected glow and openness, and a feeling I have yet to find the words to completely describe, but I’m sure if I were able to, they’d resemble a paragraph from all the greatest love stories ever told. The feeling was exactly what the fairytales had described until it wasn’t and the realistic romantic was born.

At some point after multiple experiences, I’ve learned that love isn’t made from a universal formula. There is no cookie cutter approach to it. Love is not something that can not be planned, and it certainly isn’t always as flowery as Nicholas Spark’s likes to portray. It’s not an I need to be with you every single moment of the day type of thing. It’s not a soap opera either where one needs to fight tooth and nail to make the happy ending pan out. It’s not a we never have arguments or ever disagree type of thing. A flat line of happy moments, or you look good on paper and in the face so we can make this work type of thing. It just isn’t.

Love kind of just happens. It’s something you have to be open to, but not necessarily on the hunt for. It’s spontaneous, it’s overwhelming, it’s consuming. It’s a web of confusion, yet it makes the most sense at the same time. It’s something that can’t be explained, but then all of a sudden can be.

It’s the urge to scream it from the mountain tops, or your maybe even your twitter timeline. It’s the simple yet nurturing habit of making sure they’ve eaten, slept or woken up on time. It’s a not always in your space, but always on your mind type a thing. A having a disagreement and then discussing it to understand where each other is coming from and still loving them type of thing. An I‘m so pissed off with you, but I really want to make sure you eat tonight type of thing. An I can’t stand your ass right now, but I’m buying you the allergy medication you need type of thing.

I don’t believe love should be completely easy, but I do believe it should be effortless to want to make it work. I don’t believe that a person can complete you, but I sure as hell believe that when you find the right person to complement who you are, you also find home and within their arms, or simply just within their presence. I don’t believe you must settle with love, but I believe that your imperfections and flaws can be loved, cherished and be the simple reason why you are indeed perfect for someone else.

I just believe in love. An undeniable, don’t want to live without you, help you build and grow, push each other to the limit, yet sometimes crumble together and rebuild together, figure shit out, laugh at inappropriate jokes, be physically and emotionally naked with one another, no boundaries needed, understand each other with ease, kind of love.

Hold the glass slipper and poisonous apple.

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4 Comments

  1. Yetti,
    This is great and I have to say- I am no english scholar or expert on writing but you have grown leaps and bounds as a writer. I love how I feel like I am by your fire side chat listening to you tell me about matters of the heart.

    I recently wrote about my obsession with the song “Fifteen” by Taylor Swift. She gives a jarring line at the end of the song saying “And Abigail gave everything she had to a boy, who changed his mind and we both cried”. I get chills just thinking about the pen that wrote those incredible words.

    Love is imperfect and thats totally fine. Beautiful words from a beautiful soul.

    Always,
    Johnna

  2. I love your perception of love here. Its a beautiful unpredictable thing and your realistic approach embodies that. Really a lovely read.

  3. Lets say, LOVE This!

    This was written genuinely. Strive for this love! It exist!

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