I've never been a "falling in love" sort of girl. I've always wanted to be, but I'm not. Maybe it's just semantics but, the truth is I've always been a "growing in love" type. Oh, don't get me wrong - I have my teenage girl, can't sleep, thinking about him, get nervous, tongue tied, watery-eyed, crushes, but I don't trust those things any longer than I can make 'em last, which is never much longer than it takes to discover the most glaring flaw in my subject of desire - because, they are, after all, only crushes. Not love.
My love, on the other hand, may be slow growing, but damn, that one takes some pretty strong stuff to kill. Maybe I'm too practical. Maybe, when I find myself in love and see the flaws in the one I love, I shouldn't be so willing to roll with it. Maybe that's what gets me in trouble with the boys. My psychologist told me, er, no... suggested, that maybe I'm too forgiving. Sounds kind of lame, hey? Like I'm tooting my own horn.
Meh. Whatever.
I suppose if I have to err on one side or the other, it might as well be on the, "Look at how gloriously nice I am side," rather than the, "Look at that bitter old harpy," side.
Because we all know that: Bitter old harpies, do not = Christian.
While: Nice to the point of self-abuse, does.
Hey, who let that cynic in here? She belongs in another post altogether.
Friday, November 24, 2006
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment