I have been avoiding writing this post, most because the reasons behind it had me ugly crying for the second time in less the a month. So I’m going to start off with a bit of rant about the romantic comedy/drama genre (which has been inspired by post on both KiKi&Tea and Mamamia).
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I have to confess that I used to love romance films. I devoured them. Whenever I went to the movies, they’re what I wanted to see – boy meets girl, they fall in love, there is a misunderstanding / catastrophe of some sort, they sort it out and get married in a gorgeous ceremony. I would laugh, I would cry and I would leave the cinema feeling full of hope and joy. For many years, my favourite of all of these was ‘A Walk To Remember’, which though incredibly sad, sparked my fascination with Nicholas Sparks (see what I did there?) who is also credited with such marvels as ‘Dear John’, ‘The Last Song’ and of course ‘The Notebook’. All epic romances that featured pretty normal people – people that I could identify with.
And there’s the rub.
Of course, it’s not Mr Spark’s fault that I had a hard time separating fiction and reality (Stephanie Meyer and Jodi Picoult are also partly to blame), but that’s what happened. I was convinced that I just had to wait and everything would turn out fine. That my story would turn into something epic that people would talk about forever. I was utterly convinced that I would marry my ‘highschool sweetheart’ that for a better part of year, I ignored the fact that he was cheating on me. I knew he would realise the error of his ways and come back to me. It didn’t happen, I screamed at him, he sent my abusive messages and now…well now he is reformed (from what I can tell) and is marrying the sweetest girl ever (who is not me, by the way).
This rant has a point: somewhere along the way, someone forgot to mention to me that real life doesn’t happen like fiction. And, it’s also my own responsibility now to make sure I live in the real world. Which brings us to ugly crying…
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In retrospect, it was probably a bad idea to have this particular conversation with darling Fiancé this week. But I had to, because I’d started planning again. Like, actual, serious, “we’re probably going to get married next November” planning. Because I believed for some insane reason, that he would magically be ready. He isn’t, of course, because real life doesn’t happen like that. So I was ugly crying and screaming that I wanted my special day – for something to go right for me once in my life. (because i’m kind of an insensitive bitch when I’m hormonal and dreams have been…delayed…again). My therapist asked me this week if I’m staying with him because I want to get married or because I love him. I know I love him, but I’ve still had to think that question over this week and I know that if I ever can’t immediately respond with “I love him” then I should leave.
For now, there is a plan. On my end, I am going to work on detaching myself from the problems of my parents, as well as working on the whole living in reality thing. On his end, he’s going to continue to work on his budgeting and his overwhelming need to ‘provide’. Together, we’re going to work on supporting each other, taking turns to talk and cry and comfort (but not placate). We can do this – I am certain of it. I love him. He loves me. We care for each, we ‘see’ each other.
Hollywood can go bite itself.