(no subject)
"Once in a while, we long to steal
To the land of what-might-have-been . . . "
Tonight I stole to the land created by Jane Austen, and watched Pride and Prejudice with Alisha and Teri. Oh my God, what an AMAZING movie. A wonderful chick-flick for three girls to exclaim and sigh over. Every girl wants a Mr. Darcy. Every girl wants to be a Mrs. Darcy. Every girl wants to be "incandescently happy."
I loved the movie. It was a feel-good movie for sure.
"But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in."
But then, after it was over, I had to return to reality. There is no Mr. Darcy coming out of the morning mist to say he loves me. "Most Ardently." Not even a Mr. Collins, and although I wouldn't want such a man, I'd be flattered nonetheless.
And even though the love life of Elizabeth Bennet is much preferred to my current reality, I certainly don't wish to have David back. The security of the relationship was nice, but . . . it still would have ended sometime, and maybe with a much more difficult conclusion.
I then called Michellanne, who, ironically, had just finished watching the same classic love story. We both relived the most heart-warming parts of the movie, longing for a man to simply touch our hand and then flex it as if the encounter sent a shock of electricity through him. We're hopeless romantics.
We talked for almost an hour, consoling each other (her boyfriend-type guy broke up with her not too long ago), chatting about current movies, and coming to the conclusion that guys are inconsiderate jerks. Except, of course, for Mr. Darcy.
To the land of what-might-have-been . . . "
Tonight I stole to the land created by Jane Austen, and watched Pride and Prejudice with Alisha and Teri. Oh my God, what an AMAZING movie. A wonderful chick-flick for three girls to exclaim and sigh over. Every girl wants a Mr. Darcy. Every girl wants to be a Mrs. Darcy. Every girl wants to be "incandescently happy."
I loved the movie. It was a feel-good movie for sure.
"But that doesn't soften the ache we feel
When reality sets back in."
But then, after it was over, I had to return to reality. There is no Mr. Darcy coming out of the morning mist to say he loves me. "Most Ardently." Not even a Mr. Collins, and although I wouldn't want such a man, I'd be flattered nonetheless.
And even though the love life of Elizabeth Bennet is much preferred to my current reality, I certainly don't wish to have David back. The security of the relationship was nice, but . . . it still would have ended sometime, and maybe with a much more difficult conclusion.
I then called Michellanne, who, ironically, had just finished watching the same classic love story. We both relived the most heart-warming parts of the movie, longing for a man to simply touch our hand and then flex it as if the encounter sent a shock of electricity through him. We're hopeless romantics.
We talked for almost an hour, consoling each other (her boyfriend-type guy broke up with her not too long ago), chatting about current movies, and coming to the conclusion that guys are inconsiderate jerks. Except, of course, for Mr. Darcy.