Reading Alone

So I'm sitting here in the kitchen tinking that its really late and I wish Paul was here. And I start thinking about how much it sucks that he doesn't want to be here with me at night and that I feel really lonely. My thoughts go to that dark place where I start doubting us and everything we have. I question it and I question myself, my friends, my family. I wonder why I am alone. Why Paul isn't knocing down brick walls to get to me. And I realied that I've been reading too much romance.

For instance, the series I just "finished" (I got to the last completed book...not sure what's next) centered around a brotherhood that were totally devoted to their women. THey would kill other men for getting too close and had incredible sex drives and wanted all the time. The love is ideal and perfect and they came together in a mix of fate and hard headed-ness that takes only days or even hours to be realized. Its unrealistic. As much as that is desirable, its not true. Its fiction. I have a man that loves me. He tells me. He would be crushed if I left for any reason, be it my will or not. And I love him. He puts a smile on my face and when I really do need him he's there. He'll hold me when I'm sad and laugh with me when I'm happy.

Sure, its not perfect. We fight and make-up, but I have to let this book version go. That all consuming love is something to take cues from, not lust after. I can want him and sow him everyday. I can be there for him and fight for him. The book can't. And one day, I think he will do the same for me. I have to stop waiting for each new day to bring about a miraculous change. Just like I'm slowly evolving and improving myself, so is he. One day, we'll be ready for each other; one day we'll be together at the same place. Even if we're only there for a moment...it will happen. That is what I have to put my trust in. The belief that one day we'll meet with the exact same amount of passion and respect. It will be a glorious moment to be hoped for again once it ends. We're human, not fiction. We'll change as the seasons do if not more rapidly.

I love Paul. And, with time, I will grow to love my own achingly slow growth towards him.

Lots of Love,
~*Ery*~