I Am Not the Girl on Fire

I am not seventeen.

I don’t live with my mother and my younger sister in an extremely impoverished district.
I don’t hunt. I don’t even know how to use a bow and arrow.
I don’t have a hunting partner who becomes my best friend.
I don’t have a dad whose voice can make the birds stop singing.
I was not part of an annual brutal “games” that serves as a reminder of the result of a rebellion. Neither did I emerge victorious from such.
I have not been paired with a boy who gave me a spark of hope.
I never lead a rebellion.
I am no Mockingjay.
Reading the epilogue of the last book of The Hunger Games Trilogy left me with mix of grief and happiness. I am glad that the characters already found peace. But, the sadness brought by the memories of those who died and those whom they left behind, and the people who suffered so much because of the problems in their country lingered.

I could not help but to look at how the life of Katniss Everdeen turned out to be. She married the boy who gave her a spark of hope through the burnt loaves.

Katniss did not want/plan to get married due to the hardships in her life, with the Hunger Games a huge contributor to this decision. She had no experience in romantic love. Her love is mostly concentrated on her family. She was even oblivious of the affection of her best friend and hunting partner towards her.

Yet, in the end, she found the person who convinced her to do otherwise, after a period of confusion and denial of her feelings.

I am still baffled by how much I think about this part of the personality of Katniss Everdeen. I guess, the idea of deciding not to marry but ending up with Peeta Mellark strikes me so much. Somehow, parts of me, the cynical bitch who thinks ill of most humans and the hopeless romantic who is in search for her own Peeta Mellark, are at war.

I kept telling myself that I wish that “Mr. Right” would never pass by my way. I have not felt anything more than infatuation or “crush.” I haven’t even been in a relationship. But there is still a part of me that wishes for Peeta to exist.

Then again, if I found my Peeta, what would happen?

The idea of falling scares me.

I have seen people do crazy things for love. I have seen people fall out of love. I have seen broken families due to a relationship gone awry.

The amount of thought poured into the idea of relationship as an effect of reading those three books bothers me a bit. I do not want this. This should not happen. But what if it did? What if my Peeta Mellark is out there, waiting for me but I am too scared to acknowledge the fact that he even exist.

Okay, I need to stop thinking about this. Ugh. Enough.


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