The Heart Wants Love

I will admit it; I am in love with the idea of being in love.

Then again, who isn't? Love lends itself to that kind of thinking. I am not, however, blinded by this love. When I still dated frequently, I was a shatterer of men's hearts, for one simple reason: If they uttered that terrifying "L" word, I was packing my belongings before they had a chance to ask if I felt the same way. It was nothing personal, of course. I just couldn't bring myself to stay in a relationship with someone who felt so much more strongly than myself, and just wanting to to be in love was never a good enough reason to try to fake it.

I feel a little like karma has caught up with me, however. I discovered not too long ago that I am indeed in love, which was a horrifying realization to me. I am not one to fall in love quickly, nor am I one to fall in love before the other party in question. The intensity of the emotion is bizarre, especially in the way that it attaches itself to a person who never fit the idea of perfection that had always been in my head.

I continually get asked if I have told him yet. My reply?

"Dear god no! Do you think I'm stupid?"