I just finished watching The Mirror Has Two Faces for the nth time. As expected, I cried. Again. I don't think I will ever get tired of this movie. Prolly because it gives people like me hope that someday it's gonna be our turn...my turn at love and all it's glorious mess.
My turn to find that one person that would make me feel like I'm home. One who won't judge me if I love to eat everything with butter or that salad for me isn't a meal but an appetizer. One who would look at me all messy and sweaty and still find me beautiful. One who won't tell me lies just coz that's what I wanted to hear.
I want that. I need that.
For the first time however, It suddenly felt like it's never gonna happen. Mind you, that feeling of losing hope/faith over something you've always believed in scares the crap out of me.
So I snapped out of it.
If Boots Anson-Roa got engaged at 69, why can't I right?
Someday. My turn will come. I just hope I won't have to wait til I'm 69!