Hopeful Romantic
I developed an interest in the romantic tales of imaginary personas that were never meant to exist in reality as I grew up. To my young eyes, love worked through dramatic kisses in the rain and serendipitous encounters at restaurants. In reality, love operates in a simple yet intricate manner. According to movies, there is always someone in the world known as your “soulmate,” with whom you spend the rest of your life. You just need to wait until you meet them.
As I approach my early 20s now, I realize those romances don’t match reality. My generation tends towards “situational relationships” without commitment. Yet my belief in the power of romantic comedies remains. When dealing with heartbreaks, one needs unyielding courage at the level of Ryan Gosling battling with Captain America in order to remain romantic amidst heartbreak. Still, neither books, movies, nor conversations can adequately equip you for the sensation. In this exact moment, heartbreak feels as though you are tasting a fistful of salt shoved into your mouth, and the immediate reaction to a blurred world is disbelief as your mind ceases to work. Are my eyes deceiving me, or is this real? A comprehensive forensic analysis is needed for the retrieval of any unremembered information or memory. What did I miss? Were there any clues? Was I stupid? I know I’m smarter than this.
When it happened to me on a really sunny day with a little cloud, I was looking good and previously feeling good. But in the midst of our conversation (pre-planned by me), I noticed him just sitting there with a completely blank expression, so not seeing any reaction from him while we were talking really hurt me. All I wanted was to hear what he thought, but instead, he just asked about my expectations, and I resorted to using a retort to maintain composure and view it as just any other chat while waiting for an opportunity to leave and comprehend what was going on. What had occurred slipped from my mind as soon as it happened.
Though “emotionally decimated” fits, those dear memories lost their charm, turning unpleasant. Amid this, I maintained confidence without much regret or doubt about finding someone else. Yet even surrounded by chaos, feeling alone isn’t scary. The thing with being romantic is that everyone often associates it with the word “hopeless.” Hopeless romantic. Many perceive us as individuals who are easy to flatter and charm, “fantasists” that need to get a grip, who are convinced that real life can imitate the rose-colored worlds of rom-coms with sappy instrumentals and middle-of-the-road journalism careers that pay well enough to afford decent metropolitan housing. I once read an essay about being a romantic, and I just want to share a really nice quote: “In reality, being a romantic is edgy, resilient and courageous.”
“In reality, being a romantic is edgy, resilient, and courageous.”
Yes, being a romantic taught us to be brave and believe in the type of love we deserve. It feels like climbing Mount Everest—you tumble but continue ascending. You may feel unloved; that’s okay because Ted Mosby once said, “Sometimes love means taking a step back. If you care about somebody, you should want them to be happy, even if you wind up being left out.”
To build a strong foundation for romance, it’s necessary to love yourself completely and understand that you have every right to go after what you want, but appreciating rooms doesn’t mean having unrealistic expectations; it simply shows that we want to feel happy and fulfilled like the protagonists do. Being a romantic means heartbreak doesn’t break your hope—one day, you’ll dance to that song again.
