Saturday, September 3, 2011

Last Love Letter

It's not really fair, you know. How the movies and television shows always have one last letter from a person who died that someone manages to save for years and years until it comes to light at the exact perfect time... and it's all about how the one who's still living is so amazing, and how sure the one who is gone is that they are amazing, and how much they love them and how much they wish that they were there with them. But what can you expect, really? I mean in the movies there are secret admirers and guys climb up to girl's window at 2:30 in the morning, and make grand gestures of love including standing on the girl's lawn with a boom box over his head.

Things like that don't happen in real life. Real life isn't like the movies. How is it that I'm 28 and just now deciding this? How is it that it took me this long to realize that my life isn't like a movie? That just because something makes cinematic sense, that doesn't mean it is going to happen outside the cinema. That having a "feeling" about something doesn't mean it's foreshadowing, and that the things you root for to happen... sometimes they don't.

There is no letter. There is no declaration of love from beyond the grave. There aren't secret admirers, guys don't climb trees just to talk to a girl, and grand gestures of love aren't nearly so grand.

It's tricksy and false to lead a life so full of drama I suppose... cause then you start to believe that your life is a movie... and it just isn't.




I wrote all that about 2 hours ago... and then I stopped and read the Heaven Is For Real book... Yes, all of it.  And I used up 16 tissues.... But I feel a bit less disillusioned and unhappy now... a bit more hopeful.... a bit more like I've gotten a love letter at the exact right time.

This, my friends, is the danger of a girl who reads. A girl who reads can never quite give up hope, because there is always something to turn the tide.

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