Easter weekend is one of my favourite times. It means the end of semester 2 and that I can stuff my face with ridiculous amounts of chocolate. I also means that I not only get to spend some time with family but I get to lock myself away and get some writing done.
This year I have vowed to finish something I’ve spent the better part of 3 years working on. Finishing it also means that I can start working on something new and possibly explore some options with this.
As I’ve spent the last few days locked in my room with unlimited amounts of chocolate and a lot of creativity I’ve managed to get a lot of writing done. Since it’s been going so well I’ve decided that today I’d share some of that with you. Below is from a chapter that I’ve spent the past few days fixing up.
I have this idea in my head of what love is suppose to be like but what if my whole idea of love is wrong. From when I was a little girl I’ve watched films where the princess has always found her prince charming and read books where there has always been a happily ever after. In all this time I’ve realised that these things don’t happen in real life. What if the expectations I have of love are different from everyone else because I’ve based mine on what I’ve read in books and seen in films?
I want to be in love and not just any kind of love but the love I read about in books and see portrayed in films. I want to fall deeply madly in love with someone who I don’t want to say goodbye to and someone who sweeps me off my feet every day. I want to be with someone who likes me at the times when I can’t even like myself. I want to believe that there is someone out there who could be my Pip or my Peeta. I want to believe that there is someone out there who would stand outside my bedroom window holding a boom box but I can’t help but think I’m waiting for someone who doesn’t exist.
Maybe I’ve spent so long focusing on unrealistic aspects of love that I’ve completly missed what everyone else sees love as. I’m not even considered an average person so finding someone to like me would be impossible. No one picks you when there is always someone better. In reality no one picks the green fruit pastel from the bag when they can have a red or a yellow.