I heard Scarlet makes them stop.

This is a musing of a short story about a girl in Hollywood looking for purity (purity is a really strange concept)...

When I was a kid, I remember hearing a woman say "scarlet makes them stop dead in their tracks" or at least it did with him. I get having fantasies that he would show up at my door. Like a romantic comedy, where the guy screws everything up and the girl is about to move on but he shows  up in the nick of time with flowers talking about how he'd been up all night and he's such an idiot. I would fantasize that he would call me and tell me he was on the next flight home because he realized that he had to see me. 

I think he missed a lot of things. He focused so intensely on my looks you forgot the most important part. I have the biggest heart. Even now, my heart is beating with the sweetest thoughts of him. An open heart never got me anywhere. Now I'm stuck with memories of a golden 30's city, baby. It'll take some time to forget that first kiss when he was swaying me back and forth dancing in the street like kooks. It'll take some time to forget the feeling of electricity between our palms. 

Doesn't he see it was my fault to think that I could fulfill some pure romantic dream. The kind of scene where he could see past my body or even my words. I expected more. He was the kind of guy who helped water birds cross the street and who held my hand to protect me from the homeless crazies. 

I blame me and all of those magazines and movies. They made him look so glamorous and beautiful. They made it seem like him were the American dream. A foreign speaking intellect with film noir fantasies. Hollywood couldn't have made him look prettier. He followed suit with his mysterious sense, scruffy hair, and unbelievably distinctive voice. He was the most magnetic person I had ever seen. He wasn't just what the movies made him out to be but he was. Even though he didn't know or see it, he was. The idea of just crawling into his brain was enough to captivate me but he need to try to crawl into my bed. Sometimes, arm's length is someone's comfort level. I guess that's how this is how my entire journey began.

 Dress: Equipment Shoes: Unknown Belt: Vintage

Dress: Equipment Shoes: Unknown Belt: Vintage