Slow Turning

Like the song says, you can learn to live with love or without it

If My Life Was A Book

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Since rediscovering my love for reading and the joy of getting lost for a few hours in a simple story, I can’t help but imagine how different my life would be if I was one of the characters I read about.

Just like in real life, I wouldn’t be an obvious beauty.  However, unlike in real life, the second look I would warrant would reveal a mesmerizing beauty just below the surface.  My eyes would reveal the depths of my emotions by sparkling when happy and darkening when angered.  My figure would be womanly, the perfect curves that seduce and call to those who are not satisfied by merely skimming the surface but cannot resist the lure to learn what lies beneath.

Instead of enjoying the four white walls in my small, undistinguished apartment, I would live in a descriptive, stylish home that reflects the flair with which I live my life. There would be clues that would help the newcomer in my life discover my carefully guarded secrets.  It would be expressive of the job or the passion that I obsess over, which would not be as a sports fan who spends solitary weekends binging on telecasted games.  Instead I would be focused on art, music, current events, history, or the local community.

My biggest problem wouldn’t be indecision.  It would be something that happened that requires a proactive reaction.  And through this problem, I would meet a man that both scares and thrills me.  He would be single, hesitant to commit, and so driven to be professionally successful that he would be the best at what he does.  He would not only protect me, he would make me feel safe.  And through that safety, undeniable love would bloom.  It would be the lightening crashes, fireworks, toe-popping kind of love.  After a week of being each other’s world, we would have solved the problem and be ready to admit that we were soul mates.

It’s pretty obvious that based on the above what kind of books I’ve been reading recently.  And I have to admit that there’s a part of me that hates myself for liking them.  I can’t figure out what I actually get from them.

If I’m just passing the time by reading them, then am I wasting my time?  Or do I need a fairy tale to counterbalance my skepticism and remind to live with hope?  I just worry that I’ll try to find hope where I shouldn’t.  Of course, that could be the beginning of my own story…

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Written by rachel

October 15, 2012 at 9:56 am

Posted in Life, Ponderings

Tagged with , ,

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