It doesn't happen.
Westley: "Hear this now: I will always come for you."
Buttercup: "But how can you be sure?"
Westley: "This is true love - you think this happens every day?"
I've put some serious thought into it, and I've decided that The Princess Bride really is my favorite movie.
I could spend paragraphs writing fanciful musings about love, true love, and the intense desire we all have for it. I have for it. But I don't think it necessary. Plus that'd be so predictable.
I'm pretty sure I'm scared of it. Love, I mean. I'd rather just silently admire it on the page of a book, and secretly desire it as I watch an old, romantic film. Because I know what happens to people when they fall in love. And I've gotta tell you, it's freakin scary.
Personal ambitions? Out the window. If they asked you to, you'd drop everything you had in a heartbeat for that person, just to see them smile. Selfish behavior? If it really was true love, you'd have very little time for you. There's very little room for selfishness in love. Something I'm pretty sure I'm unprepared for.
This is fun. I could be lying to you this very instant and you wouldn't know. For instance, I could say "I'm not prepared to give up my selfish behavior yet," but it'd be a total lie. Because I am. I really am. Wonderful and scary.
Now you tell me, am I lying?
But anyway, I also know that Westley is an ideal. As is Mr. Darcy. And Prince Charming. You'd think people would get a clue after over 2,000 years of human history that there really is no such thing as a living ideal, and that the exceptions, if there ever are any, are few and far between. I'm not just talking about guys, it's really across the board. Men and women are becoming increasingly self-centered, dishonest, and impure.
But what do I know? I see through 19th century eyes and hear with 16th century ears. I'm obsessed with nobility. It is bar none the single most attractive quality in a man. Ever. Well, that and of course a fantastic head of hair.
I sound like I'm accusing my entire generation. Maybe I am, but I hope that's not how I'm coming across. I'll always be a little bit old fashioned. Maybe that's why I've only had one boyfriend in my whole life, and I'v never told anyone of the opposite sex the three most desired words of my heart.
I'm not gonna try to define love, because I can't. I'm not gonna try to be deep, because it's 1 am. I'm looking for nothing and expecting nothing.
I used to think I should have been born in a different century. But I don't anymore. This is where I am, and I'm happy. Besides, if I went back two hundred years, I'd fit in with everyone. And what fun would that be?
None.
Tons.
Buttercup: "But how can you be sure?"
Westley: "This is true love - you think this happens every day?"
I've put some serious thought into it, and I've decided that The Princess Bride really is my favorite movie.
I could spend paragraphs writing fanciful musings about love, true love, and the intense desire we all have for it. I have for it. But I don't think it necessary. Plus that'd be so predictable.
I'm pretty sure I'm scared of it. Love, I mean. I'd rather just silently admire it on the page of a book, and secretly desire it as I watch an old, romantic film. Because I know what happens to people when they fall in love. And I've gotta tell you, it's freakin scary.
Personal ambitions? Out the window. If they asked you to, you'd drop everything you had in a heartbeat for that person, just to see them smile. Selfish behavior? If it really was true love, you'd have very little time for you. There's very little room for selfishness in love. Something I'm pretty sure I'm unprepared for.
This is fun. I could be lying to you this very instant and you wouldn't know. For instance, I could say "I'm not prepared to give up my selfish behavior yet," but it'd be a total lie. Because I am. I really am. Wonderful and scary.
Now you tell me, am I lying?
But anyway, I also know that Westley is an ideal. As is Mr. Darcy. And Prince Charming. You'd think people would get a clue after over 2,000 years of human history that there really is no such thing as a living ideal, and that the exceptions, if there ever are any, are few and far between. I'm not just talking about guys, it's really across the board. Men and women are becoming increasingly self-centered, dishonest, and impure.
But what do I know? I see through 19th century eyes and hear with 16th century ears. I'm obsessed with nobility. It is bar none the single most attractive quality in a man. Ever. Well, that and of course a fantastic head of hair.
I sound like I'm accusing my entire generation. Maybe I am, but I hope that's not how I'm coming across. I'll always be a little bit old fashioned. Maybe that's why I've only had one boyfriend in my whole life, and I'v never told anyone of the opposite sex the three most desired words of my heart.
I'm not gonna try to define love, because I can't. I'm not gonna try to be deep, because it's 1 am. I'm looking for nothing and expecting nothing.
I used to think I should have been born in a different century. But I don't anymore. This is where I am, and I'm happy. Besides, if I went back two hundred years, I'd fit in with everyone. And what fun would that be?
None.
Tons.