nixtress's Diaryland Diary

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Snippets

I was reminded again today why I don't read romance novels.
I used to, long ago and far away, when I was a teen. The romantic in me was still alive. There was that side of me that believed in fairy tales and happily ever after, that knew somewhere, somehow, there was someone destined to love me and want to be everything to me and who knew down deep that I could be everything to him in return. Someone willing to fight for me, willing to declare to the world that I was enough.
Even with all the darkness in my life, I had the courage to hope for something so fanciful.
Then I grew up.
I realized with every year that passed that reality is not rainbows and ribbons, flowers and fantasy. Reality is hard and rough and sometimes very, very cold. Sometimes it'll have a softer edge to it but mostly not.
Hopes and dreams are well and good but they won't feed your children, they won't keep you warm and they won't make sure you have a shirt on your collective backs.
That sounds so bitter and really...I'm not. I'm very aware that there is sweetness and light in the world. I just don't think there's an abundance of it. I don't think that romance is all it's cracked up to be. Or at least, the definition I had of it when I was younger.
Romance novels depress me. I read them and they make me cry because I've lost that childish hope that I could ever find a love like those books describe. And honestly, I've come to believe that's a false sense of romance.
I don't know, now, if I really know what romance is. I don't think I've had any real experience with it in my lifetime. I just know it's not in any of those novels.
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Speaking of books...I've been on a vamp/werewolf/witchy kick again. Kim Harrison, Kelley Armstrong, Charlaine Harris, etc. I'm quickly running out of new material though and am struggling a bit to find new authors to read. Suggestions are always welcome.
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Our snow has largely melted, due to the rain we've had off and on all day today. It's settled into that muddy slush that comes when mixing rain and snow. A mother's most favoritest thing, lemme tell you. I'll be glad when it either freezes or is covered again by snow.
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Bran's home again, after spending the weekend with his dad. I'm glad to have him back. Bizarre as it sounds, I'm always afraid he won't come home for some reason, that he'll choose not to or his father will find some way to take him away again. I know it's irrational and improbable but that doesn't make it go away.
Glad he's home.
I have an early morning with Santa Shop tomorrow so I really do need to haul my carcass off to bed.
Happy weekend.
N.

10:22 p.m. - 2007-12-09

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