Skip to main content

When prince charming detours


Why is it that we are built with the desire to be loved? Appreciated for what we are, tolerated for what we are not. And what in us makes us envy those who have found it so that when your friend shows you her drop dead gorgeous ring makes you wonder where your prince detoured?

In a film love is portrayed so effortless. I mean, it would be nice to believe that one day I’ll walk into my favorite coffee shop and he will be walking out - as we carelessly spill our coffee and offer a million apologies. Our hands will touch. Our eyes will meet. He will smile, I will gleam. Music will play and our lives will be forever intertwined… … … But life doesn’t happen that way.

While talking to a friend who is in her early 30’s, she sighs as I tell her of a mutual friend’s engagement. She looks at me and says “Where is my happy ending?”

What do you do when Prince Charming seems to be taking longer to arrive?
Do you buy a neon light in the shape of an arrow pointing towards you?
Do you wear a t-shirt that says “Desperate”?
Or do you like Snow White hope, dream, and sing that “someday (your) prince will come…”


Comments

Anonymous said…
That is tru, movies are so fake. And life is so harsh wen it comes to love...But wuld luv be as priceless as it is if we culd find it so easily?....

Popular posts from this blog

Love never returns void

Many years ago I wrote a piece on a dear friend of mine. At the time her story unraveled with a heartbreaking ending. But if anything remains true from that story is that she is and will continue to be the eternal optimistic… who always, always believes in love. She paced back and forth, looking at the door and back at her watch every few minutes. She was nervous and her hands were sweating. Finally to catch a breath she sits down and lets out a deep sigh. And she closes her eyes. It’s surreal to her how years ago this was the exact same spot she last saw him. Where he promised he loved her and that love was everlasting. The last place before their story crashed and unraveled. She never thought shed be back here again after the way it ended. Years had passed and life and time had taken their toll on their story. One she thought was signed and sealed, shelved on a book case and had become dusty with time. She got up at the sound of the announcer saying the flight had arrived. She l...

New Website- CHANGES

So it's official. "Life As I Know It" is officially coming to a close.  Though "Life As I Know It" has been one of my most proud endeavors, it can no longer continue in its current format, it has run its course and purpose. We are, and will always be, eternally grateful to the more than 3,000 subscribers for the life they gave it. For venturing with us into many tales, and for allowing us to tell you many stories. We cannot say thank you enough to you, the readers, for making this blog what it is today. But don't fret I am very happy to inform you that though this is the end of an era, it is also the start of an age. "Life As I Know It" will continue to live on in our New Site . Though it won’t be the center feature, it will be a part of a more complete and wholesome site, a complete lifestyle blog and site, dedicated to the growing interests of our readers and subscribers. The content will include anything from fashion must-haves, to colu...

The magnitude of history

It’s my usual Sunday night, me rummaging through notes and notebooks, editing and writing. I stood up and went into my writing closet. Realizing that the binder I wanted was at the very top, I stood on a stool and yanked at the bottom of the stack. Swiftly it all came toppling over me, hitting me in the head in the process. Papers and folders scattered everywhere. I grunted. I began picking them up one by one when I ran across a manila folder gently titled “WEDDING” in block letters, with a red heart sticker following the word. I’d forgotten I was planning a wedding. I slid slowly to the floor till I was sitting and I began to go through its contents. There were lists of first dance songs and father/daughter songs; clippings of flower arrangements, swatches of fabrics, notebook entries of budgets, and location listings. There it all was. Very detailed and organized. All I ever dreamed of, all I thought I ever wanted. And on the last page, on the back cover of the folder, a pasted...