Confessions of an adult Twi-hard.

By EM RUSCIANO

A confession of sorts.

I like to think that when you come into the world of “Em’s words” I create a space where you all can feel better about yourselves.

I imagine you must read how out-of-control, irrational, pathetic and flawed I sometimes am and think to yourselves “Jesus, I thought I had problems”… This is a public service I am happy to provide AND today is another such example of me falling on my sword. Get ready to love yourselves sick.

There is a very clear marker I have in my life that indicates how I am traveling. Where I am at mentally, spiritually and physically. For some of you this marker may be alcohol, chocolate or perhaps a lover. For me? It’s Twilight.

Yep, go on JUDGE ME. I have transcended embarrassment over this one. Yes. There is a direct correlation between the amount of times I watch Twilight/New Moon or read the series and how I am getting along in life.

What I am trying to say is: I love Twilight.

At first I resisted the Twilight saga. I’ll admit, it was hard. I have had a love of fantasy novels and movies my entire life. I grew up on The Never Ending Story, The Dark Crystal, Labyrinth, The Princess Bride, Flight of the Navigator, Xanadu, The Wizard of Oz, Willow, Edward Scissor Hands, Beetle Juice, Star Wars – you get the idea. I also obsessively played Zelda on my Nintendo and had a disturbing collection of unicorns and care bears.

For a fantasy nerd (Ferd) like me Twilight was a given. Alas, I let the more intelligent, highbrow literature loving friends of mine, shame me into looking down on it like everyone else with a mild intelligence level or who was over the age of 16.

I would feign boredom when the young kids who worked at the radio station would pledge their allegiance to either Team Jacob or Team Edward and ignored the release of the first Twilight movie all together. It was on a flight between Dubai and Rome that in a weakened state I gave into watching the movie and since then… things have never been the same.

Fear not, for those of you who hate Twilight, I am certainly not going to delve into the story line, which Team I am on, or even mention the fact that I have pre-ordered Eclipse on DVD.

I am also completely aware that the books are written by a 35+ year old Mormon woman living out her repressed sexual fantasies through her teenage fictional characters.

The main character Bella is a sh*thouse role model for young girls. She requires CONSTANT supervision as she repeatedly lands herself in near death experiences and finds it endearing that her vampire boyfriend likes to position himself inches away from her face, staring maniacally at her while she sleeps.

I am well aware the text is not comparable to Austen or Bronte or even good old Enid Blyton however I DON’T CARE.

I watch it and read it so my brain can rest. It takes little to no effort to submerse myself in and as I am a romantic at heart, it really is one of the greatest love stories I have ever been involved in.

Edward says things to Bella that I think deep down a lot of us yearn to hear. Even though Bella is needy, clumsy, plain looking and of mediocre intelligence, the glorious creature that is Edward loves her unconditionally for who she is on the inside.

Trite yes but I feel something a lot of us can relate to. The fantasy that the goddess/god we have lusted after could look past our perceived imperfections and see our pure hearts and amazing intentions… or something like that.

When I’m feeling neglected by my Husband – I turn to Twilight.

When there is nothing on TV – I turn to Twilight

When I miss out on jobs -I turn to Twilight.

When I’m feeling flat – I spend the day in bed watching Twilight.

I’ve noticed lately I have been watching it a lot and have been dipping in and out of the books again. It forced me to look at the reasons why. As I mentioned before, the amount I read and watch it directly correlates with the status of my life.  Twilight not only helps me escape, it also forces me to address why I need to escape.

BRILLIANT!

The moral of the story this week is as follows: If there is something you love that those around you mock you for, hold your head up high and tell them to feck off. I am surrounded by intelligent, hipster, self important, New Yorker reading, multiple degree holding wankers (AKA friends that I love dearly) who take themselves far too seriously.

I have let go of my attachment to what they think of my reading habits and instead of hiding my copy of “Breaking Dawn” inside my “Book of Longing” by Leonard Cohen (which by the way is an excellent book, some of the most beautiful poems I have ever had the pleasure of reading) I proudly bandy it around openly, proclaiming my love for it.

My point is, love what you love no matter how daggy, low brow, cheap, tragic or embarrassing others may judge it to be. Who cares what they think anyway? I don’t. I know that I have the love of a good man to keep me going..

And his name is Edward Cullen. (Team Edward all the way, man).