I write this now as a very bitter woman. I just recently ended a three year relationship and have been on a mission to be "fine". I suppose to save face...bleh! Most of the people who know me, or think they know me, have only ever known me to be linked romantically to that man. I haven't "broken down" and done the whole chick-flick movie marathon and gone through three boxes of tissues while bawling my eyes out and stuffing my face with chocolate. I just decided that that would not be the route I would take. Plus, I don't really like chocolate.
For the most part, chick flicks and romance novels are bull shit. They're just as bad as songs about being so in love, you'd catch a grenade for that person. Really? Really?!?! It just sounds a lot like a "my balls are bigger than yours" type of scenario. "I took a bullet for her"..."Oh but I'd catch a grenade for her". And then what? You die. She mourns, or not, and finds another idiot who would commit suicide for love...and ego.
I think this romance garbage is the leading cause of depression. Someone needs to conduct research on this; I'll wait for the stats.
Had there not been all these ideals set by Hollywood, record companies and publishers, perhaps letting go of a love-gone-wrong would be easier. I suppose the nagging family and friends add just as much fuel to the tear-jerking drama. It would be easy to just pick up the broken pieces, pack up your heart and vacate the property whose lease has just expired.
But no. Instead, you end up where I am. Bitter. Or worse off: bitter and vindictive with puffy eyes, high cholesterol levels, weight gain issues and a blocked nose from all the crying. I wasn't always like this, you know? I just happened to love someone with every fibre of my being and things didn't work out so well. And I find myself seeing all this love around me and wanting to puke.
I blame movies and songs. And that retarded romance novel I just read. What a load of bullshit! I'll love and be loved again. Hopefully, without a disclaimer attached this time.
