Living in Ruins of the Palace Within My Dreams

When I was younger, like high school teenage years, I loved the idea of being saved.

i am filled with christ's love saved mandy moore gif

Yeah no, not that kind of saved, thanks.  I’m talking troubled, jaded girl who is saved by an understanding, guy-of-her-dreams type.  Never mind the fact that I was totally not that girl and couldn’t even pretend to have a reason to be.  I’m sure I was just a bit of a bitch to my parents, though.  Just a bit.

Anway.  I actually spent hours trying to explain that in a way that made it less embarrassing, except that’s just really not possible.  At all.  Because it’s just so ridiculous.  Whatever.  We all have our embarrassing teenage secrets.  I don’t know where such a warped idea of what love and relationships came from – oh wait, yes I do.

(The answer, in case you still haven’t realized what apparently is the connecting thread regarding my entire life, is movies.  Also books by Sarah Dessen.  Thanks, bitch.)

It took a shitty relationship where I played the heroic dude’s role for me to understand that’s not how it works.  Ironically, after all that time, after that relationship ended, I finally got the play the part that I’d always romanticized.  Yay me.  At first the jaded, manic pixie dream girl character was fun.  It totally was.  Then I realized that the problems went deeper.  And that was totally not fun.

It’s not romantic and it’s not endearing.  There’s no one who wants to help you and make it better because no one knows.  It’s not something you talk about – except yelling at characters in rom-coms when your friends force you to watch them. Because yeah, I really hate rom-coms now.  Like a lot.  Because they are stupid.  And lies.

janice ian suck it mean girls gif

Ok, fine, whatever.  I’m not going to get into that whole thing.  I’m not feeling sorry for myself and I don’t want anyone to worry or feel sorry for me.  I’d actually started writing this with one very specific thing in mind: to explain why I wished I’d never met him in the first place.  I’m talking about the guy who made me feel this way, in case that wasn’t clear.

I don’t know, though.  Do I really feel that way about him?  Months ago, I wrote how time and time again I understood and that I’d always care about him.  That isn’t true anymore.  I don’t understand and I don’t care.  The truth is that I don’t feel anything at all.  I just do not care.

It’s taken far longer than I would have liked and more patience from Ryan than I deserve.  The heart does what it wants and in its own damn time.  It most certainly was not fun, and I have absolutely learned my lesson.  Now all that’s left is for me to get back to that point I was at a year ago, this time with someone who actually deserves those feelings.

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