We went to see "Slumdog Millionaire" last night. It was one of the best films I've ever seen, and completely fantastic. I mean fantastic in that it was a fantasy-- a sequence of events that would never happen.
A young man, brought up among the very poorest in India, makes his way onto a reality show to find the woman he loves.
It is his deep, fierce, passionate love that breaks my heart, and is the most imaginary aspect of all. It breaks my heart that I will never experience love like that.
See, only beautiful people in movies get that kind of love. The kind that grabs onto you and never lets go. The kind that makes you risk life and limb to be with that one person.
I have honestly never met anyone that much in love. Because that kind of love does not exist.
I run all over the world. I purposely dramatize my life. I create crises, hoping that someday I'll feel that deep-rooted longing, that intense crash of emotion.
But I never will.
I am doomed to live a life dreaming of fairy tales which will never come true.
I truly am content to be single, and I will be single until someone loves me with that kind of love.
Until someone would risk everything for me, I am content with no one.
I hear the lie telling me that the reason I haven't been loved is because I don't deserve it, but that's not true.
The reason no one has love me so violently is that such love does not exist.
I refuse to be like everyone I know-- marrying because it is the next logical step in life.
And so, alone I remain.
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