Sunday, February 23, 2014

Romance And A Cynic

I miss a certain naive part of me. I think she's been dead for quite some time now. And I've been trying to revive her, in a I-don't-need-you-but-I-oh-so-need-you kind of way.

It's the part that sighed and smiled at love stories, romantic movies, believed in grand gestures.

Did I tell you I wrote soppy romantic stories to earn house points at school?

Let me elaborate.

Every week a house was put in charge of the class bulletin board. We had eight houses, no kidding! So these houses would have to come up with creative ways of interacting with the class, on just about anything, one of them was, " host creative writing contests", and obviously we were an all girl's school, we LOVED tales of love (and probably lust). I would enter these contests and win them.

 I maintained a journal then, where I've actually stuck the sheets I'd written the stories on like some sort of weird artifact. And by God were they cheesy! I never could reproduce them here. There were kisses...and piercing gazes and strong arms pulling the  perpetual shy girl in a passionate embrace.

 I liked to think that my tales were very edgy because they seldom ended positively: in that the two lovers would never live "happily ever after" but "love each other, however choosing to  stay apart" due to some stupid circumstance or the other.

And I hate myself a little now, because even in my stories I could never imagine a happy, bickering couple who not only vowed to stay together till infinity and beyond, but actually walked the talk...