Hopless Romantic

Three years ago, I was headstrong, independent, focused. I pushed love aside like love was only for the weak, vulnerable, and the naive. I was too good to love and to be loved. I hated cheesy movies and romantic novels, I still do, but more or less, I've come to realize that my attitude was nothing more than a facade, it was a way for me to justify a void I felt in my life. I was headstrong because I could not be vulnerable in front of others, I was ignorant because I could not deal with my own emotions. I was on such a path when I came to college, and then you came along and led me astray. When it was over, I was such a mess. I've been changed, and things have never been the same. Then more and more wonderful people came into my life. My experiences with them, the good and the bad, have only changed me for the good. Maybe it's true, after all of these experiences and as I sit here and contemplate in my solitude, that I have become a hopeless romantic. Since when did the tiny little things make me go soft in my knees? Your jacket, a piece of your sandwich, a toothy grin, a laugh at my stupid jokes, the necklace you made, our fingers interlocking on the dance floor. When did these meaningless things become meaningful. Or were they even meaningless to begin with? Maybe they did have meaning once upon a time. Since when did I become willing to stand outside bare and naked and vulnerable for you and for the many other "you's" to come. I stand here before you, I just hope and pray that you won't break me into pieces.

Maybe, just maybe, I can be a hopeless romantic who is not so hopeless?

hahahaha I laugh at myself, and I laugh at you.