Would she have, though? The thought of dating anyone had been a foreign concept to Celia until her stepmother broached the topic two Saturdays ago. Celia preferred to read about romance than actually experience it for herself. Romantic entanglements seemed too complicated, too messy for her. Whenever the character drama became too much for her to handle, she could simply put down the book and come back to it later.
It was harder to do that in reality, though.
If her stepmother hadn't said anything, she might have never considered the advantages of being romantically involved. A small part of her liked to live vicariously through the heroines in her novels, who were bold and brave and beautiful. Though their relationships with their lovers were not without their hardships, they always managed to survive the tempest. The heroine always ended up happy and loved at the end of the tale. Wouldn't she someday, as her stepmother gently suggested, want to live that out herself with another person? Wouldn't she want to be the heroine of her own story?
Celia's gaze fell to her notebook again. Their conversation had made it clear to her. She was no sooner prepared to become involved with a relationship than she was to train tigers. She lacked the emotional fortitude to see things through. When things became uncomfortable, she preferred to avoid them than to approach them head-on.
She was nothing like those heroines in her stories.
"Oh," she says, because she knows she has to say something to fill in the silence between them. There's really nothing else she can say to that. But she can't simply leave it at that -- not if she doesn't want Eugen to worry.
"We've gotten off-topic, haven't we?" Celia forces a smile, her head tilted slightly to one side. "We should return to studying."
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Date: 2014-04-08 06:52 pm (UTC)It was harder to do that in reality, though.
If her stepmother hadn't said anything, she might have never considered the advantages of being romantically involved. A small part of her liked to live vicariously through the heroines in her novels, who were bold and brave and beautiful. Though their relationships with their lovers were not without their hardships, they always managed to survive the tempest. The heroine always ended up happy and loved at the end of the tale. Wouldn't she someday, as her stepmother gently suggested, want to live that out herself with another person? Wouldn't she want to be the heroine of her own story?
Celia's gaze fell to her notebook again. Their conversation had made it clear to her. She was no sooner prepared to become involved with a relationship than she was to train tigers. She lacked the emotional fortitude to see things through. When things became uncomfortable, she preferred to avoid them than to approach them head-on.
She was nothing like those heroines in her stories.
"Oh," she says, because she knows she has to say something to fill in the silence between them. There's really nothing else she can say to that. But she can't simply leave it at that -- not if she doesn't want Eugen to worry.
"We've gotten off-topic, haven't we?" Celia forces a smile, her head tilted slightly to one side. "We should return to studying."