the quest for romance

A romantic life - love in the afternoon, great food, mind-blowing sex, poetry, opera, art, holding hands, your heart sings and passion drips out of your soul. Some call it unrealistic. I call it the only way to live. Anthing else is, well, settling.

I often wonder why people settle. "He's such a sweet guy," He's a good provider," "We're good friends," She's a good cook," "My biological clock is ticking."

I married a rocker. I was young. Not much compatability there. I loved Sinatra, the opera and poetry, he loved drinking, loud music and hotrods. But it looked good on the outside- the Hollywood Couple. The first half of the marriage was a wild hurricane, the second, a tornado.

So there I was, after the tornado, sitting in my room at night alone, wondering how I got from there to here. Had I changed, ever? No. I was still the romantic, dreaming of love in the afternoon and wanting the passionate, poetic life. I never once thought it wasn't possible, I always knew I would have it and this time I wouldn't settle for anything less.

"Anything less than mad, passionate, extraordinary love is a waste of time.
There are too many mediocre things in life to deal with, and love shouldn't be one of them."
-Frankie, "Dream For An Insomniac."