The meeting.The initial aversion/resistance/defiance/pushing away.Enter event that forces/persuades/convinces them to communicate.
Enter attempts to unveil themselves and reveal their life’s darkest secrets to each other.Beginning of the backstory.Beginning of the “process” of falling in love.
Enter event that forces them apart/tears newborn relationship into pieces.
Enter scenes of both(let’s talk love triangles some other day) characters drowning in (their own)tears.Enter another event that pushes them back together.
Enter sappy promises/epilogue where they get married and/or have a kid(s).
Cliche,cliche plot lines.Stupid decisions.
IMPOSSIBLE,COMPLETELY UNBELIEVABLE LOVE STORIES.
Who falls in love with someone who stalks them and decides to kill them to achieve their own happiness(and then saves them before they die and continues being creepy)?
Who makes the really stupid decision to basically(metaphorically) sign an agreement to be USED and TO use for sex after being handed a brochure that screamed “No Personal Attachment” while knowing that they WON’T be able to do it?
WHO switches from I-distrust-your-entire-species-because-I-know-they-have-hunted-and-tortured-mine to oh-you-are-a-wonderful-being to I-love-you-so-much-I’m-willing-to-risk-my-LIFE-for-you?
Most importantly and typically-WHO FALLS IN LOVE FOUR MINUTES AFTER THEY MEET,GODDAMNIT?
Actually,that isn’t my problem with every other love story I’ve been reading.I don’t care how long it took them to fall in love-the core of my problem is the way their relation just abruptly materialized.
Where is the love-story-building?
Books with romance as a sub-sub-sub-plot can eternally be excused on the basis that the “process of the relationship developing” couldn’t be given enough page-space. When all 235 pages of that book are dedicated wholly to giving me a pair of binoculars with which I can stare at this relationship and I still don’t understand why you like her or why his little sister is in love with you or why you’d both ever be together…I just end up blinking.Or swearing.Or slamming my head metaphorically into walls.
Forget understanding you and your insane feelings,why do I not sympathize with you even if I can’t figure you out?Why do I not care when you weep into your arms-turned-temporarily-into-pillows?
My heartlessness while reading love stories these days has brought me to a point where I’m beginning to wonder if I simply just hate love stories.*
Maybe that’s the wrong question**.Maybe I should be asking myself who READS such awful things.
Apparently, I do.There was a point when I used to like some of the stories that form the basis of this rant.Maybe I possessed no rational thought then.Or maybe we all like such stuff when we read the first two or three of them.Maybe I’m just jaded now.So used to such literary romance I’m no longer excited and butterfly-ing with couples.
P.S.Any and all suggestions on what to read would be awesome.Please keep me away from frustration for a while.
P.P.S.MERRY CHRISTMAS,EVERYONE.HOPE YOU HAVE AN EPIC CHRISTMASSY DAY TOMORROW.
*I most probably don’t.I love Fangirl and Eleanor and Park.I love Me Before You and anything by Stephanie Perkins.I love Pride and Prejudice.I love lots of romance.I still butterfly a lot…just not with some books.
**”Wrong question” reminded me of the Whovian fandom which will never have any true hope.Never will there be a companion who lasts forever.We should just give up,guys.