Sometimes I hate feeling so much. All the agonizing pain that goes along with watching someone else’s life play out. It would be one thing if these people were real…but they aren’t. How pathetic right?
I mean almost go into a hyper-nation of despair every time I watch a movie or TV show where the love story isn’t working out. I feel what the characters are feeling, I sympathize with them, but the thing is:
THEY DON’T EXIST. So at the end of the day, I’m the only one feeling these terrible emotions.
The other day I was watching the movie called, “Love, Rosie,” which is just a sad love story made to get people like me hooked. So, I was almost done with this epic love story, probably on my fifty-fourth tissue, when the two main characters finally seem happy with their lives.
As the final credits were rolling, I was bawling. So I shut my computer and got out of bed to try to walk away the tears. And it was working too, until I looked into the mirror, and I just broke down. It was almost like when I made eye contact with myself, my reflection and I made an unspoken agreement that that movie was tragic.
But the really tragic thing is that in that moment I didn’t want anything more. I wanted to feel the pain that goes along with loving someone. I wanted that even though I was crying at the thought of it happening.
Like I said before, the feelings get in the way. They overwhelm me to the point where I have to sleep them off in order to get back to normal. But, I guess it’s better than not feeling anything at all. Because if you think about it, if you never feel anything, what is the point of living. What would we be if we didn’t experience these crazy emotions?
All and all, there are worse things than being a hopeless romantic.