There once was a girl who fell in love. She felt the butterflies, she felt safe and she felt at home. Then they got married, had a beautiful baby girl and lived happily ever after.
Now seriously, when was the last time that happened? The bit to remember about love is the falling, you expect someone to catch you, someone to soften the landing, most cases, there is not a soul to be seen. I'm a little bit too young to be a cynic and it sounds terribly condescending but you only need to feel it once, more than that borders on masochism.
I guess every time we expect to have a different ending, a storybook ending. Life isn't a fairy tale, it isn't cleanly cut and nicely worded, it's the floor being ripped out from under you, it's being singed by the flame and the subsequent mind numbing pain. The waves of regret will claim you, they will call you their own, make you their punching bag and it is almost impossible to rise above and breathe fresh air, but when you do? I can't explain how much it means, when you feel it, you'll know. The end just isn't coming quickly this time. Loving a boy but not being able to handle them is quite probably the hardest dilemma some of us will face. Luckily enough, it looks like he is choosing for me this time, it hurts like what I would imagine an Uchiha Sharingan would provide. If only life was as simple as anime, it hurts and then you die.
