Landon: I don't want to just be your friend.
Jamie: You don't know what you want.
Landon: Neither do you. Maybe you're just too scared that someone might actually want to be with you.
Jamie: And why would that scare me?
Landon: Because then you wouldn't be able to hide behind your books, or your frickin' telescope, or your faith. No, no, you know the real reason why you're scared? It's cause you wanna be with me too.
A Walk to Remember (2002)
I find myself blogging yet again. Too soon. But today's one of those days when my insides feel like bursting--with both ideas and emotions-- and yet I had kept them all bottled up. I don't want to rain on anyone's parade anyway. Or maybe it's just I want to assess everything first before I open my mouth. I was thinking of calling a close friend upon getting home, to talk or maybe invite her to dinner for some breakdown session. But we are all too busy. So here I am now, badly in need of an outlet.
Landon captures pretty much everything of what I've been thinking about on my way home earlier this evening. Maybe I've been putting on this face because I'm still too proud to admit that I'm looking for it too--that I'm just like everyone else. Maybe it's because I'm just too scared to make the same mistakes again. Maybe it's because I'm too proud. Maybe it's because I'm afraid to feel my frailty when I get hurt. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe everything's just my defense mechanism so people won't know the actually-mushy-and-cheesy me. That as much as I want to be different, as much as I want to be rational, as much as I want to realistic, there is this part of me aching for it. That there is a part of me meaning every word of every love song I sing out of the blue. That there is a part of me still wishing for a Henry, a Logan, a Miggy, a prince charming--maybe even an Edward Cullen-- to sweep me off my feet. That sometimes I feel saying the cliché : I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. Or maybe that's an overstatement. Hm. Or maybe I, too, am hesitant to consider myself limerent (as Saxton calls it).
Why am I so proud to admit to myself, and to anyone else, that I too am in search for that one thing we all need, we all want, we all ask for? Am I that too proud a person? Ain't it normal for everyone to go looking for it? And admit to themselves they need it too? FLCD 135 seems say yes to this. Even 113 implies it. Even kids look for love--and they are not afraid to show it! Am I too abnormal? Or maybe I have some sort of genetic disorder, like that of time travelers, making me all weird, that when I get to stressful situations I escape, and run away? What is wrong with me? Ha.
To hell with my pride.
And salutes to those who have the guts to acknowledge their need for it and to make the other person feel they are loved.
I've blurted too many for the past days. I am so sorry. I'd really appreciate it this time, that is if you took time reading what is above, if you don't ask me about it (especially if you're not in the mood of philosophical and pathetic conversations/ ideas which are kind of my thing here haha). Who wrote those words up there anyway? We have no idea. You got it. Thank you.
Landon captures pretty much everything of what I've been thinking about on my way home earlier this evening. Maybe I've been putting on this face because I'm still too proud to admit that I'm looking for it too--that I'm just like everyone else. Maybe it's because I'm just too scared to make the same mistakes again. Maybe it's because I'm too proud. Maybe it's because I'm afraid to feel my frailty when I get hurt. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe everything's just my defense mechanism so people won't know the actually-mushy-and-cheesy me. That as much as I want to be different, as much as I want to be rational, as much as I want to realistic, there is this part of me aching for it. That there is a part of me meaning every word of every love song I sing out of the blue. That there is a part of me still wishing for a Henry, a Logan, a Miggy, a prince charming--maybe even an Edward Cullen-- to sweep me off my feet. That sometimes I feel saying the cliché : I'm just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her. Or maybe that's an overstatement. Hm. Or maybe I, too, am hesitant to consider myself limerent (as Saxton calls it).
Why am I so proud to admit to myself, and to anyone else, that I too am in search for that one thing we all need, we all want, we all ask for? Am I that too proud a person? Ain't it normal for everyone to go looking for it? And admit to themselves they need it too? FLCD 135 seems say yes to this. Even 113 implies it. Even kids look for love--and they are not afraid to show it! Am I too abnormal? Or maybe I have some sort of genetic disorder, like that of time travelers, making me all weird, that when I get to stressful situations I escape, and run away? What is wrong with me? Ha.
To hell with my pride.
And salutes to those who have the guts to acknowledge their need for it and to make the other person feel they are loved.
I've blurted too many for the past days. I am so sorry. I'd really appreciate it this time, that is if you took time reading what is above, if you don't ask me about it (especially if you're not in the mood of philosophical and pathetic conversations/ ideas which are kind of my thing here haha). Who wrote those words up there anyway? We have no idea. You got it. Thank you.
Exactly the same sentiments that I have.
ReplyDelete