I have often wondered whether the desire to experience a love that knows no bounds is strictly a fantasy of little girls, or if it is a disease of the overall human condition.
Because we all are so awfully lonely.
I have to admit I’m a victim of this curious and destructive malady.
It’s difficult for me to discern whether this desire for a passionate love is my own, or the result of years of girlish brainwashing when I was an impressionable young thing.
Granted, I was more a little boy than a little girl, even in my frilly dresses and patent leather Mary-Janes.
Most people search for a love that burns eternal, that consumes their thoughts and actions. And we always think we find it, only to be left behind, burnt and wasted.
Is the love of a good person worth everything? Can it be?
Should it be?
I wonder, at what point does one realize that this is the love worth holding on to?
At what point should one stop fighting, if ever?
I suppose it is all right that love is one of those things I will never fully understand. After all, I keep thinking I’m in love then realize I am sadly mistaken.
Sweep me off my feet and light my fire, baby.