that unfortunate thing.

I think society has doomed me to a hopeless view of love. I know a few people who don’t allow their kids to read romance novels [even the tame ones] because of the way love is portrayed.

Maybe I’ve set myself up to expect too much out of men. I mean, really . . . where are you going to find a Mr. Darcy or Mr. Knightley? Are they only in alive in the books? And of course, characters like those come from the mind of a woman. Ok, ok . . . Nicholas Sparks and Shakespeare have done their share of damaging my expectations as well, although honestly, I wouldn’t want a Romeo. Didn’t those characters have to be modeled after someone?

Yeah. Probably not. Not just one person, anyways. Is that why we love to read so much? Because we can find people who are what we want them to be? The perfect friend, the perfect companion?

Mr. Darcy was far from perfect. He was proud and rude. He ruined the possibility of happiness for others when it seemed to contradict with his social standards. But he redeemed himself. He set everything right. He went far beyond what anyone expected of him without getting credit for any of it. And he did it for love. What could be nobler?

Mr. Knightley . . . he was just perfect from the beginning.

So where does a girl go to find these people? Seriously . . . you guys would be fighting off women if you took a few pointers from these characters. I don’t think we’re really that hard to please. We only demand perfection. And I put the blame on the shoulders of media.

That’s probably not fair. Never have these authors claimed to write the truth. It’s clearly labeled as fiction.

It’s my fault if I believe it.

One thought on “that unfortunate thing.

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