Romanticist

I let too many great loves slip through my fingers. Who knew it would all add up to this? Certainly not I. Well, I know now but now it is much too late for me to even hope to reconcile any residual feelings I may have.

I suppose if I try hard enough I could very well find that one "great" love to carry me through this screwy journey we call life. Maybe. Though, there is a part of me that does not want to succumb to such fallible nonsense. At what age should one decide to give up and let love in?

Much of the dating scene today consists of too many falsities and platitudes. No one is honest from the get go. We all try so hard to impress each other that we get caught up in superficialities. It digusts me! It really does.

Now, I am in no way proclaiming to be some sort of "love expert" but I do have much to say on the matter. I'm not going to place the blame on one sex or the other. What good would that do? We're all to blame for allowing ourselves to become so calloused. We've all abused love in one way or another.

When you think of the word Love what exactly do you think about? What images are conjured up for you? I tend to conjure up many images and memories. Some are amorous, some are very amorous. Yet, most are of my past crushes. I know it may seem typical but even I cannot escape my own romanticism.

Romance has always been undefinable. Its definition is in a constant state of flux. By which I mean it is different for each individual. Most of us are pretty familiar with the story of the hopeless romantic. And most of us never give it a second thought.

Take for example the story of Don Quixote. It is a tale that has been highly regarded as the quintessential romanticist's perspective. Don Quixote being an old man with an unsound mind sets out on a heroic journey and encounters much ridicule. He remains adamant about his quest and is convinced that his purpose in life is to help those who seek help.

I sometimes wish I could do what Don Quixote did. Though, I don't think I could ever follow through with it. Perhaps in another life in another place. Mine heart supercedes this.

We all know that love is a very real emotion; an emotion that we like to believe we can live without but ultimately cannot. Even so called serial killers and murderers seek love at some point. No human being exists completely devoid of the need for love. It's just not probable.

Yes, we can mention maniacal figures such as Hitler and the like who slaughtered millions. But we must never forget that such individuals were/are just as human as the rest of us. We cannot just write them off as "inhuman". Well, we can but we shouldn't. We must never forget that those individuals that are the hardest to love are usually the ones who need it the most.

Love can be both remarkable and destructive. Some would agree with me others would disagree with me. But it is what it is because that's what it needs to be. I suppose love in its purest form is worth the trouble.

I've allowed many great loves to slip through my fingers. It is my own damn fault. If I could construct a time machine I'd probably go back and try to convince myself to be more open to love. But then I probably wouldn't listen to myself. I may even punch myself in the face.

Perhaps all I can do now is punch other people in the face and hope for the best.