I believe in storybook love. I used to have such trouble believing in love or in romance in general. Whether it was because too many cheesy songs or movies, it just never seemed normal to me before. But I look in myself now, and I see it so clearly.
I met Noel five years ago. When we first met it was nothing more then co-workers. We talked at work but there was nothing, no spark, just co-workers. One night we had to close together, and we got to talking and we had a lot in common. So I went out with her for coffee a few days later. Both her and I were in separate relationships but yet there grew a connection. We began seeing more and more of each other until one day, months later we found ourselves single and we found ourselves together. The relationship was short lived as I had to move for school and long-distance did not appeal to either of us.
A year later I ran into Noel. We just saw each other at that same damn coffee shop. Again, we found ourselves single, and again we decided we didn’t want a world without each other. It was in that period that I felt a passion I didn’t know existed. I would have done all those cornball things I saw in the movies for her, and I probably could have invented some of my own. It was perfect, it was beautiful. She, this time however, could not stay with me as she had an internship up in Canada. It did not end the way a story would. Not yet at least. I still find myself going to that same damn coffee shop whenever I can. I’ll find her again, and I’ll have my happily ever after. Because I have known what it was like to feel what storybook love is, and I want it again.
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