there was a complete and total melt down during this week’s episode of dawson’s creek. sure it was sad with dawson’s pop dying and all, but really there was no excuse for my reaction. i sobbed. gut wrenching, can’t breathe, snot running down my face, sobbing.
you know, i’ve been feeling stressed this week. i’ve got a lot on my plate, but this. . . this caught me by surprise. it came right outta left field.
my heart got spanked a bit last night. not broken, not hurt, just spanked for misbehaving. someone gave me a heavy dose of reality (one which was most necessary). the fairy tales have been shaken from my head, the dream stars have fallen out of my eyes and i will be much more realistic.
rationality and realism has never been my strong suit, but as i get older i am doing better and better. sometimes, like lately, i still fall into hopeless romantic, fairy tale mode and my imagination runs away with me.
i jsut wonder, at what point to do you call it a life and fully accept the fact that maybe, just maybe you weren’t meant to be with someone? that maybe you’re an eternal bacherlorette and that’s they way it will be and there is nothing wrong with that?
at what point can you give up the fairy tales and hopeless romantic hopes and not be seen as a bitter, jaded harpie, but a woman, alone, independent and ok?
and i really, really want to know at what age you stop chiding yourself for foolishly believing and how in the hell to put the marketing spin on the fact that you’re alone, always have been and always will be.