“I wish there was a bigger focus on being IN a relationship in the Disney cartoons, not just getting INTO one.”
That’s part of what made the Aladdin TV series so great. They showed the dynamic of Aladdin and Jasmine’s relationship: their routines (Marketplace Day every week), anniversaries, getting gifts for her for no reason, dates, feelings of inadequacy on his end, taking each other and the relationship for granted, jealousy, fighting, trust, honesty, sacrifice, supporting each other (particularly Jasmine supporting Aladdin’s search for his father in King of Thieves), etc. The fact they had SO much development through the 90+ episodes of the TV series is one of the reasons that Aladdin and Jasmine are one of my Disney OTP’s.
See, I didn’t take the little dance moment from DH as a “Harmione” moment. I understood it to be a moment when Harry saw one of his best friends in pain and tried to cheer her up and let her know he was there for her. And after all, he didn’t try to be romantic — he was goofy.
Maybe I understood it that way because one of my best friends is a guy — and even though we are completely platonic and have love interests of our own, I can picture him doing the exact same kind of thing to cheer me up when I’m sad or heartbroken (in fact, I’m pretty sure he has at some point).
I just hate this idea that a man and woman can’t be close to each other without one (or both) of them having feelings for the other.
Some of us were discussing the marvelous wonder that was my birthday cake…
…and then I turned to my ex and asked, “So, have you read the 7th book yet?” (He hadn’t yet when we broke up over a year ago.)
He responded without a hint of remorse: “Nope.”
I sighed, put my hand on his shoulder, and looked him in the eyes. “It would have never worked between us, darling.”
…then we ate the delicious, delicious cake.
(Hey, every relationship needs standards. Harry Potter fanaticism is one of them.)
Because seriously, my reaction to seeing my ex this morning was entirely unacceptable.
I was walking to work (tutoring at a uni) and decided to cut through a random classroom building to escape the freezing, pouring rain. On the way I passed a group of young men. They caught my attention because the one in front looked like a teen I knew from summer volunteering, and I thought, “I know he isn’t that tall.” I had just barely confirmed that, indeed, it was not the boy I’d been thinking of, when I noticed the one behind him. Honestly, my brain only registered the curly brown hair and the trademark smirk. I didn’t have time to take in any more detail because what did I do next?
I fucking turned my face the other way and prayed he wouldn’t recognize me.
The second we’d passed each other I gave myself whiplash turning around to try to see if it was actually him. He was taller…but then again, I haven’t seen him for almost three years, and my friends tell me he’s grown. I don’t know why he was there, with that group, at my uni — but perhaps he was looking to transfer. They were in the maths, science, and engineering building, definitely interests of his.
As I left the building and got back out into the rain, I told myself that it probably wasn’t him. After all, I didn’t even get a good look at him. But whether it was or wasn’t, my reaction still bothered me. Why the hell did I have to hide? Why was I so terrified of him recognizing me? After all, he was the one who did something wrong. He’s the one who became a self-absorbed, lying, cheating, using PRAT. And besides, it was THREE YEARS AGO.
He still has power over me, and I hate it. I’m afraid of the influence he still could have — the way he pulls people in with his charm and charisma, like a moth to flame. I’ve always imagined that at our next encounter, I’d be at the top of my game. Successful, looking great, and prepared against his magnetism so that I could exude a vibe that said, “Look at how well I’m doing…without you.” I want him to regret how much he screwed up…but the thing is, I don’t think he even realises that he did anything that wrong.
My point is, I wouldn’t even be thinking about any of this if I didn’t still care about what he thought. It’s been three years, and he’s still messing up my current relationships and messing with my head. I’m sick of it. He shouldn’t be my motivation or means for measuring success.
I need to take a lesson from Sarah: Jarome Smith, you have no power over me.