Read, Live, Love... But Is It Really That Simple?

Today, it seemed, was just like any other ordinary day. I finished work, I made my way to the train station and I sat down on the bench and pulled out my copy of 'The Time Traveler's Wife'. Everything was going well, with myself and with Clare and Henry (they had just finished their firste 'date') and then it occurred to me:

Reading romances, or even just romantic things, when you are single, is fun. There is an emptiness there, as if you are missing out on something or as if you should be the one experiencing this, but you're not because you are alone, but at the same time there is a sense of wonder, hope, excitement … of wanting and desire, of need that is always there when you are single. The possibility that you could have that, that you could meet that special person and experience something like this. But for some reason, when I read a 'romancing' novel nowadays, when I am happily devoted and in a steady relationship, I get pangs of emptiness, regret, disappointment, as if in reading the book it points out that even though I am with someone, my relationship is missing all these wonderful things, these things that should be there, that I should be experiencing because I'm with someone.

It's as if the book points out the gaps that I didn't realise were there, it underlines the things that I want, that I always wanted, and reminds me that I don't have them. Can I have them? How do I inject something like this – this thrill, this kind of love – into my relationship?

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perfectsoul22 perfectsoul22
26-30, F
Feb 23, 2010