(no subject)
You know, I was always labeled as someone who was afraid of commitment.
Let me say this: that is completely false.
Let me tell you why; and we’ve got to be completely honest and truthful about this: no relationship is worth it. Not one content sigh or stolen glance is worth it. It may seem as though it is, and you may feel as though nothing in the world could be more worthy of anything... and you probably think I’m highly unromantic, but I am as romantic as it gets. I really am. But relationships aren’t worth it.
By ‘it’ I mean the comfort of it all. Not comfort as in your dog just died and you’re in need of comfort. I mean comfort as in you’ve settled and grown used to it and you stop putting in the effort. No one deserves that kind of unhappiness, because, let’s face it, relationships are like shoes.
When you’re wearing a comfortable shoe, it doesn’t make the slightest difference because at the end of the day, they don’t make you feel any prettier or happier or, honestly, anything at all. They’re just the shoes you put on every day because you’re hurt or you’re tired or you’re lazy and you just don’t want to have to think about it. And that’s precisely what I don’t want. Which is why my shoes - I mean, relationships, hardly ever last much more than two months. I don’t want the comfortable old slippers with the worn-out sole and stained material. When I wake up every day, I want to put on the four-inch heels with the impossible straps and ribbons and buckles and the color that no one else in their right mind would wear. I want the shoe that hurts like hell and gives me as many blisters as I have eyelashes because when I get home and I take them off, or when I trade them in for a new pair, I don’t regret a thing. I’m glad I wore those shoes and even if only for a while, they made me feel better about myself and more passionate about everything.
I want those shoes, and I refuse to settle for anyone who doesn’t make me passionate about everything - from world peace to paper clips. I want to see my significant other and I don’t want butterflies; I want wild boars and hornets and elephants and cheetahs. I want to feel tipsy just at the sight of them. I want it to always be the build-up. I don’t want the climax of our relationship to come, because that’s simply the beginning of the end, like I said before. That’s why I go into relationships expecting nothing, and when the excitement is gone, it’s gone; and when it’s over, it’s over. I don’t drag things out. I would rather end things on a high note or a heated argument than yet another silent dinner.
Let me say this: that is completely false.
Let me tell you why; and we’ve got to be completely honest and truthful about this: no relationship is worth it. Not one content sigh or stolen glance is worth it. It may seem as though it is, and you may feel as though nothing in the world could be more worthy of anything... and you probably think I’m highly unromantic, but I am as romantic as it gets. I really am. But relationships aren’t worth it.
By ‘it’ I mean the comfort of it all. Not comfort as in your dog just died and you’re in need of comfort. I mean comfort as in you’ve settled and grown used to it and you stop putting in the effort. No one deserves that kind of unhappiness, because, let’s face it, relationships are like shoes.
When you’re wearing a comfortable shoe, it doesn’t make the slightest difference because at the end of the day, they don’t make you feel any prettier or happier or, honestly, anything at all. They’re just the shoes you put on every day because you’re hurt or you’re tired or you’re lazy and you just don’t want to have to think about it. And that’s precisely what I don’t want. Which is why my shoes - I mean, relationships, hardly ever last much more than two months. I don’t want the comfortable old slippers with the worn-out sole and stained material. When I wake up every day, I want to put on the four-inch heels with the impossible straps and ribbons and buckles and the color that no one else in their right mind would wear. I want the shoe that hurts like hell and gives me as many blisters as I have eyelashes because when I get home and I take them off, or when I trade them in for a new pair, I don’t regret a thing. I’m glad I wore those shoes and even if only for a while, they made me feel better about myself and more passionate about everything.
I want those shoes, and I refuse to settle for anyone who doesn’t make me passionate about everything - from world peace to paper clips. I want to see my significant other and I don’t want butterflies; I want wild boars and hornets and elephants and cheetahs. I want to feel tipsy just at the sight of them. I want it to always be the build-up. I don’t want the climax of our relationship to come, because that’s simply the beginning of the end, like I said before. That’s why I go into relationships expecting nothing, and when the excitement is gone, it’s gone; and when it’s over, it’s over. I don’t drag things out. I would rather end things on a high note or a heated argument than yet another silent dinner.