Not the Movies
Life is not the movies. Â You donât meet a man, establish a connection with him, realize youâre in love with him, have some sort of climatic moment between your friendship, and then he realizes it too.
Thereâs no man running after you. Â Thereâs no recognition of love in anotherâs soul in the real world in this manner. Â Thereâs no confession that he loved you from the moment he met you, it just took him some time to figure it out.
You run away from a situation, where maybe you see him interacting with another woman, and he doesnât chase after you. Â That other woman is the way real life goes. Â Sheâs the one with the happy ending. Â Sheâs the one that the man youâre in love with ends up with. Â He loves her, and all the time youâre running away. Â From your heartbreak, from the fact that this always happens to you. Â That youâre always alone. Â Youâre never good enough. Â That this will just happen with the next man you fall in love with.
And maybe itâs not love, but lust. Â But youâve been alone so long you donât know love FROM lust. Â And it doesnât matter which one it is, because it absolutely destroys another part of your soul every single time. Â And you think, well, maybe if I keep doing this to myself, itâll destroy my soul enough that itâll stop hurting eventually. Â That there will be no piece left and youâll finally be numb to all the pain.
Youâre not even the leading lady of your own movie that is your life. Â Itâs a side plot, youâre the minor character. Â The B-list celebrity. Â And it will never change. Â It was the same when you were younger and prettier and skinnier. Â Itâs not going to be any different if youâre older and ugly and fat. Â Itâs just not in the cards for you, and itâs time that you stop screening this piece of shit movie over and over in your head and living it in your life, and numb yourself and accept the life youâre meant to lead - alone.





















