"Philophobia is the persistent, abnormal and irrational fear of emotional attachment, the fear of being in love or falling in love."
I want to be married to a chocolate man.
You must be wondering why.
Because I like/love/am obsessed with sweets? Because such man can never go bankrupt as long as the female race exists? Because, well, out of a whim?
No, no and seriously, no.
Actually, it is very simple. For me, that is. As you may have noticed, I am not your average hormonal teenage girl. Perhaps, I’ve read a megaton of books, watched way too many chick flick movies, making me the way I am now – sensitive, suspicious and overly romantic.
I have no illusions whatsoever. I know that in the real world, Mr. Prince Charming and Sir Knight-in-shining-armor have almost completely faded from the human gene pool. Undying, selfless love is as rare as blue moons. At least, I know that much. But like any other girl, I wish to find the right guy, or as others put it, my other half, my soul mate.
Improbable, but not impossible. Sounds like the Sherlock guy, ain’t I? Told you, I’ve read too many books.
That aside, I manage to summarize what my ideal guy should be like. And as you have guessed, yes, chocolate is the key word.
First and foremost, chocolate is a representation of the human emotion called love. Well, I don’t care whether you agree or not – keep your protests to yourself – but chocolates make people feel better, either when receiving or giving one.
And I want to point out that no matter what happens, chocolate will always be chocolate whether it melts, it freezes, you cut it or you throw it. It may come in various forms, but it will remain as it is. Just like love.
Once it becomes a stain, it will be hard to remove. Just like love.
Once you are tempted, it will be difficult to resist. Just like love.
Lastly, chocolate is bittersweet. Just like love. Just like life.
Dramatic? Yeah right. Ha ha.
But I guess, I have always known that I will never meet my chocolate man. Maybe in a dream, but since I am a rational being, I live in reality where only the perceptible exists. Dreams hardly come true, no matter how much I wish and pray. After all, I don’t believe in miracles.
Tomorrow will be the big day – my big day – although it doesn’t feel big to me. Honestly, graduation is like a crappy joke shoved down my throat, a clear reminder that says, “Hey! You’ve live for seventeen effing years and you’ve never done anything worthy in your life?”
Yeah, sulking and self-pity are hobbies of mine. Knowing and doing are two things I had trouble reconciling. Pathetic? Yes, I know.
But, I realize that this is not yet the end. There is still tomorrow, the day after tomorrow, the next and so on. I still have a chance to prove myself. I still have plenty of time to change. Right? I just wish I have enough courage...
Oh, drats, I’m hearing them now. Cassy and Beth are already calling me for dinner. Need to grab a bite. Beth's cooking tonight. Yum yum. =)
Hope that in my next entry, I can write something good.