I’ve come to the realization that I am a hopeless romantic — despite being given every reason to be cynical as fuck.
I just finished watching a movie on Netflix called “He’s Just Not That Into You.” Lol. Don’t roll your eyes. Hear me out. For those of you who haven’t seen it, it basically follows the lives of multiples men/women/singles/couples. But, one person in particular – Gigi – struck a chord with me. Although she was extremelyyy cringy at times and believed that any sign of a guy being nice meant he was interested in seeing her again, her hope and unwillingness to give up on the possibility of love…man, I felt that shit. I won’t speak for every woman out there, but I believe in love. In finding something worth fighting for even after bearing experience and witness to the excruciating pain that accompanies ever loving anybody to begin with.
It’s hard though. It’s so easy to get caught up in the questioning of whether or not the person your into is even into you. Do you go with the flow and just hope for the best? But what if the other person just sucks at showing their feelings and is waiting for you to make the first move? What if it’s just because they aren’t fucking into you? Lol. Catch my drift? It’s fucking confusing!! But despite this, I always maintain hope. And I always wear my heart on my sleeve because I know that one day I will be glad that I did. I hate living my life wondering what if. And that doesn’t mean I am searching for something or someone or some feeling. I’m content with being alone in my own solitude. But I know that when the time comes, to love again, my heart will be open and receptive to it.
Love. The one feeling that can one day make you feel on top of the fucking world and on another leave you crawled up in a ball on the bathroom floor asking yourself “Why am I never good enough?” But deep down inside, I know that one day I will be good enough. For the right person.
Gosh, it feels so fucking good to be writing again. I have been so inspired, yet I haven’t been able to get any of my thoughts out. LOL. I fucking cried at the end of the movie. Okay, well not cried. But teared up, at least. When the guy (I forgot his name) showed up at Gigi’s doorstep and told her that she was right. That him being obsessed with the idea of making women expendable, though it might dodge the possibility of getting hurt, it leads him to the same place: alone. And Gigi, though she may make a complete fool of herself when feelings are not reciprocated, she is always one step closer to finding someone/something that way. He fucking kissed her and I lost it. Lol. Like FUCKKKK. I was like damn it. You fucking hopeless romantic little bitch hahahahaha. But at the same time, I love myself for it.
Like that cliché saying: Better to love than to never have loved at all.
So anyways, now I’m just sitting here, on the couch, in the dark, writing. Listening to my new playlist “Introspection” feeling more inspired than ever and excited for what the future may or may not bring.
I guess what I’m trying to say is: Don’t give up on the possibility of love. I know my fair share of cynics. And I may be a hopeless romantic, but I’m also not ignorant to the fact that that shit hurtttts and it’s not always rainbows and fireworks. It’s pain, its hard work. It’s even (sometimes) giving your complete all for another person who isn’t willing to do the same for you. But it’s also the most incredible feeling in the world. And honestly? It’s worth it to me. And I hope to find someone one day (maybe I’ve already found that person?? Who knows haha) who feels it is too.
Anyways, I’m going to stop rambling about this because this will literally just turn into a novel about endless hope for love and yada yada yada.
No rush for love on my end – to love or to be loved. But hey, if it comes, it comes. (my mind is in the gutter haha)
Cheers! (Do people end posts this way? Who cares. I’m ending mine this way).
Cheers to love – something I hope that everyone in this universe gets to experience at least once in their lifetime.