Ah, books. The portal to entirely different worlds. The escape from our reality. The way to get drunk without ever having to drink alcohol. The greatest company to have when you're alone at a coffee shop - or anywhere, if I'm being quite honest.
But I'm frustrated. I've recently finished the last book of my favorite trilogy and I died- metaphorically, of course. The men in the books I read put you under a viscous spell. While I clutch on to the words for dear life, I swoon over the perfection these characters exude. It's just simply not fair. The fervent thoughts begin to linger, leaving me cynical and apprehensive to how men should really be treating women. If only there was a wishing well that could grant us the perfect love that we find in books.
I'm sure a lot of us can say we have fallen deeply in love with a fictional character. They put you in a constant state of ecstasy that leaves you wanting more. For me, I guess you could say it started with Edward Cullen. Yes, it's Twilight I know, but if it's any consolation, I was in the 7th grade! The brooding vampire that always protected his human lover was so romantic. There was also Cassandra Clare's, Jace Wayland, from The Mortal Instruments series: the humorous and sarcastic Shadowhunter that revealed his true self only to the woman he loved. And Will Herondale, from The Infernal Devices series, who always spoke so eloquently about his love for reading.
Lastly there's my current and all time favorite, the ever charming Rhysand from the A Court of Thorns and Roses series. Remember when I said I recently finished my favorite series? It was Rhysand that triggered this rant! When described, he's known as night triumphant and death incarnate. He also says things like, "There are different kinds of darkness. There is the darkness that frightens, the darkness that soothes, the darkness that is restful. There is the darkness of lovers, and the darkness of assassins. It becomes what the bearer wishes it to be, needs it to be. It is not wholly bad or good", and "I would have waited five hundred more years for you. A thousand years. And if this was all the time we were allowed to have... the wait was worth it."
These fictional men have little to no red flags, something all those interested in men desire to find. Nonetheless, I'm no fool. I'm aware these men don't exist in real life and even though I carry high expectations when finding someone, I know it's close to impossible. Yes, we all deserve the best and no one should ever have to settle, but most of these men that we read about in books are just unrealistic and are too good to be true. Yet, I think a part of me still hopes for the relationships we read in books, and a part of me wants these men to exist. And of course it's not fair to hold men to these types of standards, but I truly wonder, could some of these men be based on some sort of reality? Or should I just wake up and snap out of this state of fantasy?
