[sponsor post] minestrone soup for the teenage soul

 

Today I’d like to introduce one of MML’s newest sponsors, Jada, of the touching and heartfelt blog, Minestrone Soup for the Teenage Soul. Below you will find her honest and sincere account of love that I am sure many can relate to at one point or another in their lives.

Jada, thank you for sharing yourself with us today.

(You can find and follow Jada here.)

 

Modern Love Essay, Nora Ephron & Infidelity

When my sister told me that Nora Ephron passed away, I couldn’t help but immediately look up You’ve Got Mail”on Netflix. I was incredibly sadden to hear about her death. Nora Ephron was such an inspiring and intelligent woman, where her talent and passion was clearly visible in her films and writing. She always seemed to enlighten the young and old souls of women, with her heartwarming movies about love and friendship.

I remembered watching “You’ve Got Mail” on a Saturday night in my dorm room, stuffing my face with cookie dough ice cream and crying over a cross country runner who had broken my heart. After “You’ve Got Mail”, I proceeded to watch more  Nora Ephron films like “Sleepless in Seattle” and “When Harry Met Sally.” A little more ice cream was consumed too.

The boy that broke my heart was tall, had a few tattoos, a love for independent films, and a charming way with his words. My heart was in a vulnerable stage, where I knew I was falling for the wrong guy. I just wanted to not want him. He was bad news.

I cried over this boy. My heart ached. I felt hopeless. Watching three romantic comedies didn’t really help at all. I wanted to be Meg Ryan, live in New York, own an independent bookstore, and fall in love.

In the end, I knew I was only doing harm to myself and him. His words were almost manipulative and charming at the same time. He was hurting a lot of people, especially me. I never knew when he was telling the truth or a lie. He didn’t have any respect for himself, where he just constantly had no care for what he was doing.

My American literature professor from spring semester mentioned Sylvia Plath’s relationship with Ted Hughes, and how they had an unbelievably complicated and unhealthy relationship. I hated everything about it. It lingered in my mind as I was with him. I only thought of myself as Rachel from “Something Borrowed,” where all she wanted was to be loved. Or was it just the false attention that I was receiving?

But I thought to myself, no. Don’t be selfish. Don’t be the boy that is causing this pain to you. I didn’t want any of that. It was all taboo, and I ran away from it immediately before anything ever happen. I was in a vulnerable stage, where someone had severely broken my heart before to make me act this stupidly. I didn’t want to cause the same pain that I felt before.

Nora Ephron said, “It’s always hard to remember love – years pass and you say to yourself, Was I really in love, or was I just kidding myself? Was I really in love, or was I just pretending he was the man of my dreams? Was I really in love, or was I just desperate?” I felt a strong affection towards him. I swooned. I fell real hard, but it was most certainly not love.

I didn’t want complications. Just love. Good, faithful, love. The past has failed me with bringing unfaithful love in my life, but I can’t wait to find it with someone who will bring me the right kind of love. That sweet, simple, love. As good as sitting on a park bench in Central Park, and reading “Pride and Prejudice”  kinda love.

 

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