Peeta is My Type

As I walked out of the theater after seeing the last Hunger Games movie, I was thinking about its themes of government control, the blurred line between good and evil and pondering how a work of literary fiction can be a cautionary tale for our society. #deepthoughts


I was shaken from my thoughts by my companion.

“Do you prefer Peeta or Gale?” She asked me out of the blue.

“Interesting question. Which one would you think I like?” I replied with narrowed eyes. A suspicious answer to an apparently loaded question.


“Yeah, you’re right actually….”

“Not surprised. You always go after the Peetas.”

Excuse me?!?

I was outraged; angry that I can so easily be pegged as someone who prefers the “nice guy” over the “manly man.”

On one side we have a generic, bread-baking boy, on the other we have a rugged huntsman. For most people, it’s an obvious choice.

Gale is a constant companion who was drawn to you when you were young and stayed through all of the years because he’s always loved you **sigh**. He puts in long hours in a coal mine (omg so strong). He’s the man of the house and is responsible for a brood of younger siblings (omg he’s good with kids??).  Gale will promise to feed your family when you’re at the Hunger Games right after he holds you in his chiseled arms and watches you being taken away by The Man with smoldering brown eyes filled with worry and longing (omg so sexy).

What I’m trying to insinuate is he’s hot as f*** and madly in love with you. It’s every basic b*tch’s dream. Hitch your horse to Gale and you’re set. You marry your bff, you get a reliable breadwinner and damn, who wouldn’t want to fall asleep next to that hunk of man meat every night?

Not me apparently.

I prefer Peeta. The guy who makes eye contact with you from across the lunchroom for 8 years and doesn’t talk to you until he absolutely has to. The guy who ditches you in the Hunger Games to hang out with the cool kids from the rich districts and then tries to say it was because he loved you. The guy who threw bread at you that one time.

That’s the one I prefer.

It’s because I like the chase, especially when guys who play hard to get. HA. JOKESSS. I don’t know how to navigate either of those situations. Unlike Katniss, I don’t have a Hunger Games to force Peeta into giving me anything more than an ambiguous head nod in passing. Honestly, in my Peeta chasing world, I might actually welcome a Hunger Games.

But really. Is there so much wrong with loving the Peetas? Peeta might have started off a little bit shaky in school. He was a bit awkward in the beginning of the Hunger Games. He told the world he loved you on national television, which, looking back on it was probably a sign…huh…wait….you think? But then he fought. He protected you from the Hunger Games. He made you feel loved and safe for once.

I want to feel safe. I don’t want to date Gale and worry if he’s running around with some bimbo from The Seam on Friday night because he’s a babe and can get away with sh*t like that. I want to date Peeta, who is chilling at home baking bread and going to bed because he has to be up early too.

Peeta isn’t perfect. He’s good looking, but not hot enough to walk around like a douchebag expecting girls to flock to him. He’s a nice guy, but just shy enough to be nervous to talk to you. He’s not the leader of the bros, but he’s just bro enough to be accepted by the clique.

Peeta bakes. He’s into art. He’s game for a long walk and an intellectual conversation. He wants to know what your favorite color is and why. He will crawl into your bed when you have a bad dream and cuddle.

Maybe Peeta doesn’t like the outdoors as much as Gale. He’ll fake it to make you happy. He can’t hunt for sh*t. So he’ll bake you a cake. Looking at a sunset? Peeta will describe how beautiful the colors are before he makes a move on you….if he does at all.

He’s not perfect, but he’s good enough for me.

So take your Gales. Go date those hotties and report back to me about your experiences. I’m sure they’ll be adventurous, spontaneous and breathtaking. I’ll just keep making awkward eye contact with Peetas. Maybe my Hunger Games will happen and he’ll have to talk to me. Until then, I’m ok biding my time, hoping for The Boy with the Bread.


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