A Hopeless Romantic
I'm a hopeless romantic. There, it's out. Now sure, it might seem like a trivial confession but it is what makes me tick. I'm a big believer in the idea of "the one," and I blame all of my childhood Disney and Pixar movies for it. Shrek made it seem like there's someone destined for me while Cinderella cemented in me the idea that meeting that person will be inevitable. According to them, once I fall in love, life will be perfect. I'll feel totally comfortable in my skin, ashamed of nothing and proud of everything. My hours will be filled with laughter and happiness. Any sad emotions will suddenly disappear the moment I see her. She'll be the end of my pursuit of happiness.
I've spent hours if not days fantasizing about "her" and what she'll be like. Sometimes she's a blue eyed southern bell and others she's an Australian accented pro surfer. I imagine all the similarities and difference we might have. Will she understand my love for grape soda and will I have to overcome my fear of scary movies for her? I fill up the empty minutes walking from Spanish to English class with these kinds of thoughts. I don't sing pop songs in the shower but practice what I might say when I think that I've finally met her. Until then though, it's all a big waiting game, but I assure you, I can wait.