call me an idealist

I’ve come to notice that the world turns people into cynics. Not all, I suppose, but a handful.

I was having a conversation with a friend a while back and she said that I was an idealist because of the principals I stood by in which I inevitably voiced out. The conversation didn’t end very well by the way. She was swearing and shouting by the end of it.

Aihh.. this isn’t what I wanted to write about anyway. I apologise, got sidetracked a little. Right, I shall get to it now.

I used to have a crush on this guy, let’s call him X, for the fun of it.

I remember the first time I saw him, when we were still in college. His eyes were filled with unbridled hope, the care-free

I recently had the opportunity of personally meeting X and

and the years have changed him. His eyes no longer
instead I could sense
What happened to all that hope I once saw twinkling in his eyes, the

Even though I only admired him from a far before,

I found myself wanting to impress him, trying to be someone that he’d find interesting

It clearly didn’t work (haha). But then I asked myself, “Why should I anyway?”
I’d much rather have a guy be impressed by me because of me and not because I was morphing into someone his type (unknown to him, of course). Who wouldn’t, right?
Moreover, he isn’t the person I liked before (except for his boyish good looks).

There’s so much in the world for all of us if we only have the eyes to see it, and the arms to embrace it, and the heart to love it–so much in man, so much beauty in which to delight, and for which to be thankful.

I’ve got a friend. He’s an amazing person, if I may add. He’s
He inspires himself, unlike me, a person who relies too much on external factors for her own good.

When life hands you lemons, make lemonade.

To quote from my all time favourite childhood novel, Anne of the Island (the Anne of Green Gables series),
“... looks upon each little hindrance as a jest, and each great one as the foreshadowing of victory.”