Finding Noel by Richard Paul Evans
…..
I feel like we need to have a talk about my last blog.
Please take your seat. I want to apologize to you if you felt that I was a
little too harsh with my terms or if I unloaded a lot onto you that you really
weren’t prepared for. I haven’t been prepared for any of it. I’m seriously
thinking about going back to therapy. I
have been on and off therapy for about the better half of my life. I keep
trying to tell myself that I’m too strong to need help but then I have realized
that admitting you need help is actually the strong thing to do. You really
have to humble yourself to tell someone, “hey, I can’t really handle all of
this shit on my own anymore and I really just need you to professionally tell
me that there is some version of this where I come out okay.” So it’s an option
that I’m considering, but you have to realize, therapy costs money. So I’m
trying to get through this in my own ways first. I have good days and I have
bad days. Yesterday was a bad day. I’m not always going to be like that. In
fact, it was a really, really bad day and I’m almost never like that. I’m
always going to be a work in progress and I have accepted this fate a long,
long time ago. So I apologize for my hostility in the last blog. I would also
like to give you a warning now that yes, I will be reviewing this book in these
next few paragraphs, but I’m going to be bitching about romance novelists in
general as well. If you don’t want to read a bitchblog, go ahead and leave now.
This book was cute. I wouldn't buy it. I’m biased though. It
was a sweet book but it was kind of unbelievable and I’m finding that this is
just a problem I have with basically all romance novelists. They never write
romances that I can relate to and Richard Paul Evans has this knack of having
his characters fall in love SO DAMN FAST. They have ONE conflict and that’s it
for the rest of the book.
Okay, I realize that no one would want to read my love life
if it was a romance book. I mean. I dated like a shitload of assholes before I
landed with Drew and Drew is still an asshole sometimes too. He’s just less
assholey than anyone else I've ever dated. I just think this is why women have
such impossibly high standards and why they all get hurt. If you’re reading
this shit, that isn't how things actually happen. Your hair is not going to be
always be perfect, your legs aren't always going to be shaved and you aren't going to always smell like heaven. Love never comes easy and nothing worth
having does. Relationships are HARD work. Do you think my relationship with
Drew is easy? It takes me, him and a shit ton of caffeine, chocolate, long
cries in the shower, shouting, sweat, hugging it out and random gifts ‘just
because’ (read: “I’m sorry, can we please take our clothes off and solve this
in an adult manner” gifts) to make this shit work. Nothing about getting this
far was easy and we’re still growing as a couple and you always will be. I feel
like romance books really dumb it down and make it look so simple. They don’t
do it any justice. You don’t have one conflict and that’s it. YOU ALWAYS HAVE
CONFLICT. You are always going to disagree on shit, and you are going to have
some of the stupidest fucking fights. Drew and I have had SHOUTING MATCHES over
not having sex, who is cooking dinner, why someone didn't send a text, who
smells like yeast infection, herpes and poverty all combined into one horribly
putrid scent and putting your feet on the bookcase. Shouting. Screaming. Over
that stuff. We actually didn't yell at each other when we decided to postpone
the wedding. We've shouted at each other over getting a shower. Yes. That’s
what an adult relationship is like and the arguments probably just get more
insanely ridiculous when we have children. I want to read a book like that.
Seriously.
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