Skip to main content

::Straight from a page of your favorite author.....::

Relationships are like a novel by your favorite author. You know their writing style. You like them. You’re instantly attracted to the cover. To the story.
You start out fresh on the crisp first page…all with interest and intrigue and your 100% undivided attention.
Glass of wine. Even turning off the TV to sit down and read. Just you and your book. You carry it around in your purse with love and honor.
And then around page…26ish…you start to get a little bored.
Your attention begins to drift.
You sometimes forget to even pick the book up. It just lays neglected on the coffee table while you watch some brainless reality show.
So then you loose your page.
You try to figure out where you left off…skipping boring passages…skipping whole chapters altogether…just to “hurry up and get to the end.”

You get to read all about your characters action packed adventures. All the fluffy sex scenes.
All the violent fights.
All the drama.

But you never really connected with who that character was….because you skipped over like 18 chapters in a rush to get through it.

So when the main character dies at the end, you don’t feel anything.

With that being said, no, we are not on the same page.

Because in an effort to be the perfect couple, we forgot character development and plot. Somehow attention got diverted. We began focusing on the things going on around us, instead of what was going on inside of us. We were so willing to commit 100% of everything we were in the first few chapters, but when it started to get boring, or when the writing style wasn’t really what we thought it would be, instead of pushing through those awkward chapters, we just skipped right to the end.

And now that the story has ended, can you really go back and re-read those first few chapters?
Would that really help?
You already know the ending.

Time to move on to another book. And start over. Again.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

::Fathers, Harems and Brown Eyes::

Ahh Fathers Day. A day to honor the wonderful men in our lives. The ones who have passed on their great legacies unto us. Given us their last names. Provided us with a roof over our head and food on the table. The ones who have sent us to therapy for our "daddy" issues. sidenote: Hello unavailable, emotionally distant, workaholic men. Please thank my Dad for making me fall for you. lol My dad was very typical. Cold. Distant. Left all the "child raising" shit to my mother. So I find it strange that he's actually had a bigger influence on who I am than she has. I find myself physically and mentally more and more like him every day that I get older. I guess when you spend your whole life trying to chase after someone's love, you get to know then on a unique level. I remember me going through his bookshelf. Reading every single book he had. Going through and stealing all his old records. Reading his old newspaper articles from the Korean War. Looking through his...

::The Reluctant Housewife::

Im writing todays post from the little refugee camp I've built for myself on my boyfriends bed. Using a shitty lap top, while my brand new computer sits at home untouched. Staring at pictures of his family and his clothes and his life, as my living room goes unlived in. Untouched. My life, seemingly frozen in time. Drinking Miller Lite, and eating a Veggie Burger. To watch my weight of course, which is escalating at dangerous levels. Like an obese woman ordering a Big Mac with a Diet Coke. I play these little mind games with myself. I used to get so much confidence from my work. Negotiating deals. Traveling. Meetings. Even when I had a bad day, and I would bitch, and go home and drink wine and lay on my couch, I still felt proud. Now I just lay on the couch and drink wine. The pride I get now comes from cooking a good dinner. Having good sex. Keeping a clean house. Spending hours and hours, doing my hair, make-up, buying new clothes. Just so I can trick myself into believing I'...