In a way, I've conditioned myself to believe that expressing feelings in a romantic sense, or in anyway that might be viewed as saccarine or "hallmark" or just plain romantic, is a profoundly girly thing to do and I'm not girly therefore I am not romantic. If there were romance I'd automatically have to be girly and wear pink/frilly things. And there's no alternate universe where that's happening. I refuse to believe that.
I learned a long time ago that romance as Hollywood defines it simply does not happen in real life. It certainly never happened to me therefore it never will. Self-fulfilling prophecies, let me show you mine. I became cynical and did the opposite of giving up on the ideals foisted on me. I scoffed at the notion of romance. All of it. It was a senseless mushy waste of time, a sign of weakness. Beneath me. It's a shield, and I hide behind it so well.
Here's the part where I'm not sure how my head hasn't imploded.
I still hold some of those feelings, I hide behind them. At the same time I still crave a little romance. I still want just one of those little moments to null and void my cynicism about the whole thing, I want to be proven wrong. And in these modern times it should be perfectly acceptable for me to initiate a little romance if I want it so badly. This seems like a reasonable solution, yes?
It is. Can I do it? Ha. Ha ha ha. *sob* No.
I couldn't even send an email without twisting it around and downplaying the notions contained therein. So I didn't send it. It's one of the large number of sentiments that remain unsent. How strange to find myself embarrassed about something only I would shame myself for, no one else would dare, or give a shit. How dare I lower myself to that old standard that only I held onto for so long?
When I see little romantic things between other people my reaction is either 'that's sweet', or I roll my eyes because that sort of thing never happens to me or I ignore it completely. Truth is the only person's opinion that should matter is the object of my affections. Typing those words out on the screen is one thing. Believing it and then changing those little messages from unsent to sent? Changing the things/lies I tell myself to weasel my way out of it? That's a horse of a different colour.
There's a rather large dent on my so called shield from a recent bout of NRE (which I'm still entangled in). And I'm slowly trying to convince myself to toss that shield aside. Maybe I don't need it. Not right now. Maybe it might be fun to leave the weight of it behind for a while, it's really kind of heavy.