As a writer, dreamer and all around romantic idealist, I often find myself wrapped up in a fictitious story and relating it to at least one current or former aspect of my life...or at least the overly dramatized elements of it that lie within the twisted cavities of my brain.
Over the holiday break, due to the insistence of several friends, I delved deep into the abyss of the Twilight series. I have never been so deeply absorbed in books in my entire life!
As I was reading through these stories of soul mates, I was also neck-deep in wedding dress selection and guest list reduction, which has placed a certain panic within me and made everything seem so...final. I contemplated the guest list and the great loves of my life, one whom was currently on said list. I've been asked a few times if that person ever had a sudden change of heart, if I would consider giving him another chance, and it got me thinking. I allowed myself a short indulgence down a rather poisonous path just to try to reach a final conclusion as to why the thoughts still plagued me from time to time. I thought about Edward and Bella and how closely I could relate to the uncanny inseparable duo and especially to the way she felt when she was near him. Edward even disappeared for a time, but all the while, he loved Bella and stayed true to her. In my case, however, he let the protected, special element of our uniqueness, our friendship, our soul mate qualities dissipate. He shut me out entirely and cheapened it with superfluous others after me and insisted upon keeping them all around for his undying glory, putting all that muck in the middle of us. Though I've known it for a while, it occurred to me in a searing flash that no amount of time or change of heart would ever heal the wounds he left and it would never be possible to go back.
At the end of this rabbit trail, I came to a rather remarkable conclusion. Part of me was still in love with the fantasy...with the memory of what was (for several brief glimmers) or mostly...what could have been. Though it's true that the stories were spectacular and several of the scenes were quite the essence of the finest romance novel or film, that's just it...maybe they're best served for fodder for my next two novels for others to revel in and to sit safely inside bound pages, high upon a dusty bookshelf.
And that's that...
Besides, no one can ever really live up to Edward.
Over the holiday break, due to the insistence of several friends, I delved deep into the abyss of the Twilight series. I have never been so deeply absorbed in books in my entire life!
As I was reading through these stories of soul mates, I was also neck-deep in wedding dress selection and guest list reduction, which has placed a certain panic within me and made everything seem so...final. I contemplated the guest list and the great loves of my life, one whom was currently on said list. I've been asked a few times if that person ever had a sudden change of heart, if I would consider giving him another chance, and it got me thinking. I allowed myself a short indulgence down a rather poisonous path just to try to reach a final conclusion as to why the thoughts still plagued me from time to time. I thought about Edward and Bella and how closely I could relate to the uncanny inseparable duo and especially to the way she felt when she was near him. Edward even disappeared for a time, but all the while, he loved Bella and stayed true to her. In my case, however, he let the protected, special element of our uniqueness, our friendship, our soul mate qualities dissipate. He shut me out entirely and cheapened it with superfluous others after me and insisted upon keeping them all around for his undying glory, putting all that muck in the middle of us. Though I've known it for a while, it occurred to me in a searing flash that no amount of time or change of heart would ever heal the wounds he left and it would never be possible to go back.
At the end of this rabbit trail, I came to a rather remarkable conclusion. Part of me was still in love with the fantasy...with the memory of what was (for several brief glimmers) or mostly...what could have been. Though it's true that the stories were spectacular and several of the scenes were quite the essence of the finest romance novel or film, that's just it...maybe they're best served for fodder for my next two novels for others to revel in and to sit safely inside bound pages, high upon a dusty bookshelf.
And that's that...
Besides, no one can ever really live up to Edward.
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