People like the idea of love.
Of loving, being in love, or being loved. It’s simply a human nature so strong that when it all fails, we are left nothing but a broken mess, shattered piece by piece on the floor.
I like the idea of love being this beautiful pain. People come and go looking for this sweet idea, sometimes willing to make the most difficult sacrifices, and sometimes it’s worth it. At times, though, things go downhill and people will remember about the experience as an important life lesson.
If you ask me, I love it. I love being in love, I love looking for love. I love sitting alone in a cafe and trading shy looks with strangers while thinking about a dozen scenario that can progress between them and me. It’s exciting, even if at the end of the day everything turns out to be just that; an imagination.
It’s such a delightful thing to ponder about, too, when you see a couple by themselves. The way they trade meaningful smirks, inside jokes, the slightest touch. The way they act with one another can be a game for you to ponder who is true and who is not, who will make it and who will not. Then sometimes there are also two souls who are not together, but you can see everything about them gravitates toward each other. These people make your knuckles go white. Why can’t they see that they are right for each other?
I suppose I’m a hopeless and hopeful romantic. I’m the kind that might disgust you the most, even. I’m the kind that appreciate chivalry, flowers, surprises, and wanting people to know that I belong to someone, that I am loved.
All in all, I simply have a positive view on love.
I’d be happy to hear what you think.
Here’s to love