I just finished watching Definitely, Maybe and yes I’ve seen it before but it hasn’t made much sense till today.
It’s true, some of the best love stories takes years to stitch together and it takes a lot of patience to see the happy ending that I believe every story has.
You know, for one thing. We have to stop our idealistic view of happy endings. We often think that love stories end happily only if we end up with the person. That’s the idealistic view of things, but when things end badly, it means that there are good memories to relish on, meaning that not everything was crappy and not everything was horrible.
Today, Carl reminded me of some good memories I had with the first person I ever loved without any selfishness and I really wanted the memory to go away not because it reopened old wounds but on a weekend such as this one, it does make you feel lonely.
And as i type this on a good friend’s computer, her playlist drums on, and an old Colbie Calliat song plays and for a moment, i’m taken back to the time where I believed that something as wonderful and powerful as love was enough to hold people together. Of course, at nineteen, its never quite what its supposed to be, but at that time it was what it was supposed to be.
But despite my distaste towards this fabricated weekend, I have to be honest, this is the first Valentine’s Day that i’m not feeling anything negative towards it or towards my status.
Because you know, in the depths of my heart, those stories came alive because at that time, it was what I needed and they do have a purpose, even though I don’t know it yet. And i’ve gone past the point of knowing it, because you know sometimes not knowing the answer is enough. Sometimes, the power of not knowing, ignorance, at its best is truly bliss.
And yes, i haven’t lost my whimsical nature of believing that someday, someone’s going to sweep me off my feet and never cheat on me or trade me for a cheaper version. I haven’t stopped believing in that.
However, I did stop believing that it’s not going to be perfect. Sweeping me off my feet may not include fireworks or a horse drawn carriage, or even the rain, but it will include him and me, and that would be enough.
And maybe the reason why I don’t feel animosity towards this horrendous hallmark holiday is because I have a lot of love to celebrate about. So many good things in my life that’s celebrated once a year. So much love.
And you know, it did suck for most part. It did suck to get your heart crushed, but i’m not writing about that anymore, because I’d only like to write about hope. Hope keeps us alive, agonizing over what didn’t happen would only crush the spirit, so I look forward with enlightening hope.
And as I look back, because I know I will, I’m not a Transformer after all, I know i’d look back with a smile on my face and appreciation, because all of those crazy, psychotic ones that littered the broken road led me to a wonderful beginning and a wonderful person who is out there.
The person I didn’t have to look for. The person I didn’t have to pretend to. The person who’d love me even if I’d rather stay at home on a Saturday night and blog. The person who wouldn’t think I’m fat or would forbid me from wearing heels. The person who appreciates the brilliancy in the middle of my talkativeness.
The person God made just for me.
So, now even if we haven’t crossed paths yet, i’m celebrating Valentine’s Day, because even if our story hasn’t started yet, this part of the story, the waiting part, the Definitely Maybe part, is what makes the story worthwhile.