Romance vs. Reality

The first time I set my eyes on him, I thought it was love at first sight.

Geez. Geez… that’s what I thought.

Ah, well—who wouldn’t?

Hot. Gorgeous. Oh, crap—those tantalizing eyes that took my breath away. And lips that could launch a thousand sighs (tsek, tsek!). Butterflies in my stomach flipping inside and out. My heart beating like a tambourine (tsug! tsug!). And I couldn’t take my eyes off him.

What was wrong with me?

Here’s the thing about Italians—they know they’re at the top of the “most attractive people on earth” list. According to what study? Oh, you know… the highly scientific “Who’s the Most Good-Looking, Gorgeous, Hot Specimen on Earth” study.

In Eat, Pray, Love, Elizabeth Gilbert described Italians as “devilishly attractive, cruelly handsome, and surprisingly muscular.”

And yes—I wholeheartedly admit that I was once a victim of such a cruelly handsome Italian guy. Too cool to be real, as a matter of fact.

But yeah. I was.

And yes—too bad.

You know that feeling when you like someone so much that everything smells better? Even sour food tastes amazing? The darkness somehow feels brighter?

(Ha! True!)

But sometimes, things are too good to be true—and too bad to be real.

What happens when something goes wrong for a girl who foolishly, madly, insanely thought she was in love?

Very unhealthy.

Foolish? Maybe.

But—oh, dude—it’s a freakin’ great feeling.

And then you start forgetting your own standards. That’s when you know you might be turning into a fool in love.

Was it love?

Who even stops to think about that when your mind keeps replaying his looks, his smile, his lips, his voice, his eyes?

Ah… not me.

And yes—I’m a liar.

Was I too foolish to believe he liked me the way I liked him?

Hmm.

“I like what I see,” he said.

And yeah… it was flattering.

(Grins.)

Oops.

But just because two people like each other, does that mean they’ll live happily ever after?

That’s a big question mark.

When a boy meets a girl, there’s always the chance that the boy meets another girl—or the girl meets another boy.

Uh-huh.

Yeah.

Fifty-fifty.

Chances are real, and reality has a way of knocking on the tablet of your soul.

Okay…

(Meh.)

Keep dreaming.

Then—aha!—bull’s-eye.

(Excuse my language.)

When everything happens too fast, you start to believe it’s real—the feeling, the attraction… oh, damn, even the smell.

So was I stupid enough to believe my own ridiculous feelings?

Yeah.

Almost.

But then—when someone shows you who they really are… when they say things that make you pause, things that don’t feel right…

That’s when the illusion cracks.

One moment, you feel like you’re standing on top of Mount Everest, claiming victory.

The next, the wind hits too hard—knocking you down, rolling you like a piece of paper until every bruise sinks deeper than you expected.

Okay… what am I even saying?

Nah.

Forget it.

(Whoa. It feels like someone just punched you.)

Feelings and attraction—gone.

And suddenly, all you want is to turn him into a punching bag.