Love Letters and Lace
Thursday, January 29th, 2015
Around this time, every single year, when the grocery stores start to reek of hot pink and cheap perfume, something inside of me instantly comes to life — or rather, something inside of me goes deep into hibernation: the cynic.
If you know me at all, you know that there is a small part of me that somehow dreads the thought of commitment. I’ve always chased freedom rather than boys — collected cats rather than loves. I’ve had a total of one valentine in entire existence and I made him eat pizza and watch lame movies with me. I know, I’m freaking adorable.
But you should also know that I am a major paradox because, well, I’m simultaneously a hopeless romantic, and Valentine’s season is the season of three hundred and sixty-two of my favorite things, starting with love letters and lace. I’m a feminine being. I’ve shopped for lingerie that nobody sees in five countries, pale pink and marshmallow white are my favorite colors, and the thought of hearts plastered absolutely everywhere makes me want to spin around in slow motion while hearing my most twirly dress. I love the thought of being able to wear red and pink together without “clashing” and passing the tacky Walmart aisles filled with low quality chocolate boxes and cheesy stuffed bears makes me smile no matter what I was thinking of before.
As much as I adore when a boy figures out my favorite flowers without asking me,
I
think my favorite romantic gestures of all time would have to be
handwritten notes and letters; whether it was a lame note from a boy in middle school asking me to check yes or no or a gushing letter from a boy with broken English an entire
ocean away, I’m just a sucker for words in any form.
Over the course of these nineteen years, I’ve never been in love, but I’ve definitely felt love. I’ve had my unfair share of fairytale moments — I believe in moments the most. From stargazing in the bed of a truck in the middle of nowhere to drinking cheap wine and watching the sunset from an Amsterdam canal, I’ve found love in too many timeless moments.
I’m alone, but I’m not lonely. How cliché of me to say that, but to be perfectly blunt, I’m not sure if I will ever fantasize over a diamond ring or give up everything to be with someone, but I will forever smile when I see my friends’ boyfriends hold umbrellas for them and swoon over older couples holding hands under coffee shop tables.
Love will never leave me bitter.
I will always look for moments and Valentine’s Day will always be my favorite.
————–
Bra and panty set: Adore Me
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