I’ve been thinking about love. Love the way it is shown in so many of the films and novels that I see and read every year. The kind of love that is all-encompassing, that far surpasses everything else in its breathtaking beauty. The kind of love that it seems every girl or woman dreams of having. Doesn’t she? Whether she is six, twenty-six, fifty-six or any age in between, every one of us seems to have this deep desire for a love that can survive anything. Well, that’s what popular culture tells us, anyway.
I thought that I was somehow immune to this desire. I dismissed this type of passionate love as something that only happens in stories and films and told myself that I was content with what the real world could give me. But over several recent sleepless nights I began to wonder.