The Near-Death of My Inner Romantic Idealist

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It would have died.

In fact, it had been slowly dying for some years already. It hurts to be a romantic - constantly exposing your heart, willing to share it so enthusiastically, hoping for it to find another that beats with a reciprocal, harmonizing rhythm... Only to have it ignored, patronised, … (read more)

It would have died.

In fact, it had been slowly dying for some years already. It hurts to be a romantic - constantly exposing your heart, willing to share it so enthusiastically, hoping for it to find another that beats with a reciprocal, harmonizing rhythm... Only to have it ignored, patronised, pitied.

And then there are the mismatches... The incomplete puzzles with some pieces missing, and other pieces left over. Such bittersweetness! The same hand that makes a paper plane fly is weighed down by something heavy that you're unwilling or perhaps unable to recognise, because it feels so good to try, over and over again, to fly for just a little while.

After years of this, my inner cynic was ready to take over. We had gotten to know each other well, him and I, and I started feeling less and less like keeping the romantic alive anymore. 

But then, the highly improbable happened...

Her world found mine, and the resulting double sunsets were beyond all imagining. Mutual recognition of each other lifted all weight, and my inner romantic was saved


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Comments

hairofmedusa
2021/09/08

❤❤❤

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Ξ 1 ($3,794.18)