I used to want to fall in love
Because I saw Nicholas Sparks Create a fantasy from up above,
It was never perfect
Yet the characters were Beautiful and passionately in love;
I realized this movie screen love

Was a buildup to sex,
The excitement And the “butterfies,”
The obsession with “them”;

Watch closely They dance with their eyes,
Talk with their bodies,
And enchant with their lips,
Tempting,
Alluring,
All promising
“ L o v e”;

But love is not true If it dies;
There should not be an end Which is why people
Spend their thoughts
Their actions
Their money
Trying to recreate

The everlasting love Seen in Nicholas Sparks movies
Because it seems eternal,
And true love it,
Passion and lust is not;

But who can really help it,
I love to believe in fantasies,
Those who don’t
Are called cynical,
Neither is better,
Neither is worse,
Both are equally insulting,
Living in a dream,
Living in reality

Who even decides what reality is?
What’s to say my dreams
Aren’t realities

Only because I am the sole observer;
Because they are real to me,
I live in them But it is just me…
Does that make it any less real?

Our dreams are a collective reality
So why do we all portray such fantasies
Through hyper-sexualized,
Superficial versions of love?

Instead of finding
That love from a movie myth
I’m finding someone
To share realities with.

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