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It was never supposed to be like this. She was supposed to find love like in storybooks, where the hero sees her once and instantly loves her for everything she is. Or maybe it was supposed to be like this and she’s just been naïvely holding on to an implausible dream that no one shattered in fear of shattering her. Not that they coddled her or made her believe the dream was possible, but by not shooting her down immediately they let her have her impossible dream. She let it stew for far too long. It evolved, and took on a life of its own, free of her will, which she couldn’t command anyway. She dreamed up romances with boys she liked, and began creating a boy of her own, in her mind. A culmination of ideas, a dream all her own: a boy who could never exist.

A perfect boy from a good family, he isn’t spoiled or deprived, but has just enough angst to make him dark and angry enough to be sexy. Book smart and street savvy, he dresses cool but comfortably, loves to learn and has ambition to do whatever he dreams. An artist, musician, or scholar, he claims any religion (or lack thereof) she wants him to have, and shares all of the same interests and passions. There comes a situation in which he sees her, finds her incredibly beautiful, and fell in love with her the first time they speak. They share a deep, passionate kiss, then walk off, holding hands, into the sunset.

But it didn’t happen that way. It couldn’t have, things don’t happen that way. Fairy tales don’t exist anymore, and disappointment comes in a cup with cream and sugar. There is still hope for her, however. A boy does love her for everything she is and more. Only time and a few thousand miles stand between them. All she has to do is remember, past lovers have died for less. It can't rain all the time.

From The Lion King:

(Rafiki and Simba standing on a plain, talking)

Simba: I know what I have to do, but going back means I'll have to face my past.
(or something to this effect)

(Rafiki hits Simba on the head with his stick)

Simba: (startled) Ow! What'd you do that for?

Rafiki: What does it matter? It's in the past!

Simba: (rubbing head) Yeah, but it still hurts!

Rafiki: Ah, yes, the past can hurt. But the way I see it, you can either cry about it, or, learn from it!

(Rafiki swings stick at Simba, who ducks)

Rafiki: Ha ha! You see? Now, what are you going to do?

Simba: Well, first I'm going to take your stick.


This is a lesson everyone should learn sooner or later, I believe. Almost every single person has had something happen to them in the past that pains them to think about. Yet some continue to make the same mistakes over and over again, because they would rather ignore the past instead of remembering and learning from it.

Hence all the 'Lest We Forget' things about war.

"But it hurts too much to think about!"
I have both heard and used that argument. I too have used the Freudian defense mechanisms: Repression, Denial(oh, that's been a big one. Ask my once other-half. He could rant for hours on that), pretty much all of them, I guess. I took a psychology course.. I feel so special wheeeee...

What I'm trying to say (in more words than necessary, as usual), is that dwelling on the past, or trying to ignore it, is merely a state of mind and can be "cured", if one wishes.

Don't regret what you've done. Learn from the experience]. Mistakes are simply opportunities for learning: kid burns himself with stove, learns not to touch hot burners. Kid cuts himself with knife, learns to respect sharp things and be careful with them.
The same principle applies to everyday life experiences: don't regret what you can't change. The past is already written in stone: just go over the stone once in a while to make sure you're not repeating yourself. If you find you are, look at why. Self-analysis is a wonderful thing. The more you do it, the better you become at it. You'll understand the reasons behind those things you just didn't get about yourself, once upon a time.

I don't know about you, but I find it really interesting to reflect on myself and think, "Oh. So that's why I did that."

If I weren't so antisocial I think I might have made a pretty good psychologist (or sociologist; they're both kind of cool)

I'd like to think I don't need a reason. But deep down inside we all have one.

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