Ok, so the headline above may seem a bit over dramatic, but for a long time, this was exactly how I felt. I didn’t simply think that books ruined my chances at having a young, carefree, typical high school romance. I believed that books hooked me in at a young age and permanently brainwashed me into believing that there was a guy out there who had all of the characteristics of a male lead in the best selling novel. This theory of mine started at a young age.

The boys at my elementary school started asking the girls out once third-grade hit. Dating at this time consisted of talking during recess and holding hands. It seemed as if the rest of my classmates were indifferent to the word love. Right after they started dating a couple would automatically say they loved each other, as if there was an unspoken rule about it. You simply had to say it to each other even if you might not feel that way, even if you didn’t know what the word really meant. I always felt so out of place when things like that were happening. I had read countless books about teenage romances as a kid. You’re supposed to get butterflies in your stomach whenever they’re around. You’re supposed to put their wants and needs above your own because when they’re happy, you’re happy too. They’re supposed to be your best friend. This was what every book about love has ever taught me. When you kissed this person you were supposed to feel something. I don’t know what exactly, but I know it’s something. You were supposed to feel it and just know.

I’m going to be completely honest here. I have never felt this way about a boy in real life. There has never been a guy who has defeated the friend-zone like Ron, or showed me a different world like Jace or been the sarcastic, funny, caring person that I read so much about. I’m afraid that reading all of these stories about love has ruined my perception of it. Maybe I don’t know what I’m supposed to be looking for. Maybe people don’t really feel anything when they kiss, and I’ve simply been walking around, waiting for that to happen. Maybe that’s the reason why I haven’t been able to start a good relationship with anyone. Maybe I’m just blaming books because I don’t want to blame myself.

I have found that more often than not, each story I pick up has a romantic element fused into it. It’s not something I can easily get away from. No matter what genre I read there is always a love story woven in. The male characters seem to be crafted so perfectly that I can’t help but fall for them. I fall in love with a character in a book, a fictional character, and then I blame the actual human boys for not living up to those characters. I know, that makes a lot of sense.

I know that I deserve a great guy, and I’m not going to settle for just anyone, but it has been years since I’ve been in a relationship. Years of not finding a guy that I care about in that way, and I think to myself that maybe it’s me. Maybe my standards are too high. Maybe I need to stop trying to find a guy who makes me feel like I’m in a John Green book (minus the dying part). But then again, maybe there are guys like that out there. Maybe I need to stop worrying about it and let whatever happens in my life happen. Maybe I need to be more open to love while still keeping hold of the values that matter to me. Maybe.