faithinsmartie.blogspot.com

Just call me Cinderella, wouldn't you? Basically, that is what I always thought I'd grow up to be: a woman who would someday meet my prince; my soul mate, and we'd live happily ever after.


Someday, I'll be walking down a crowded street, the tingling in my stomach forcing me to stop and turn around. A handsome man will be standing there, stopped in his tracks, holding his stomach, and looking back at me. We'd smile and instantly fall in love. (fated, you know)
Perhaps it's just not the time for me to let go of those dreams, even if they do seem a bit far-fetched, even when i am attached. I have plenty of time to keep looking before marrige, right?


I took a walk to the park, where I'm sure to run into an old couple feeding the birds like today: I always imagine how they must have met and how they fought for their love through all the hard times. When he lost his job at the plant, she took the money she was saving for a sewing machine and used it to prepare his favorite dinner for him. When she got those migraines, he stayed up with her all night and rocked her in his arms.


When I try to convince that part of myself that life is not a romantic movie, she tells me every movie is part of someone's life. From that I reason that my happy ending (or my disappointment) will make a good movie. Actually, I know what she means: I should hold on to my dreams, because some day it will happen, regardless of the details.


Now, I don't expect my prince to ride in on a pony, but I still expect to bump into him on my way to the climax of my movie. Perhaps i've already met him, perhaps he's still on the way, perhaps that love will evolve over time, but, somehow, I will know "this is it." Perhaps.