Hopeless Romantic

Infatuated with love, or simply hopeless at romance? Maybe even a bit of both.

Of all the things I’m certain of about myself, it’s that I absolutely love, love. I have such a romantic notion about life. There’s nothing, well, there’s not a lot I enjoy much more than seeing two people absolutely, unapologetically and quite frankly overwhelmingly, in love. For anyone who knows me, you’ll know that I don’t often shy away from asking questions. If I’m in the face of two people who seem so in love, I could almost taste it, you can absolutely bet that I’m going to have to know the story. It happens all the time. Only yesterday, I met a friend down by the seafront. Some of his friends were there too. Two of which, were a couple. I love to people watch, that’s something else you’ll learn as we progress with these blogs. I love watching, processing and trying to understand the way in which people are, and how this can be different and also, how we can sometimes be exactly the same. Sunglasses are a girl’s best friend (never mind the diamonds). Anyway, I’m digressing. They could not keep their eyes off each other, no matter how hard they did, or in fact, didn’t, try. The evening went by, and I figured, I’m now, unknown to you, far too invested in my own little story of how you both came to be, how life is for you and completely mesmerised by the way that you seem to love each other. I’m not sure if I mentioned in the last blog, but rumour has it, I can at times be what is considered ‘nosey’ to some? But quite frankly, I would just I’m interested... Woops! I bit the bullet and having been around these people for no more than two hours? I went for it. ‘So, come on guys – what’s your story? (I had, hopefully discretely – although I’m not so sure) been appreciating how lovely you both seem together and I love, a love story’. I’m thankful, really, that this couple were such lovely people and seemed to take a huge compliment in that I was interested in their tale. They shared, we laughed, they smiled, I smiled, and it was a really sweet tale. It just brought me back though, to thinking about how, almost crazy it is, the amount that I love, love. It’s strange because, I’ve had my heart broken, in more ways than I care to admit. Heartbreak doesn’t just come as a consequence of a failed romantic relationship. Heartbreak comes in many ways, and I don’t want to dwell, but, I’ve experienced heartbreak more than once, and twice. However, I have had my heart broken romantically – and a lot of people have questioned how and why I’m still so in love, with the idea of and everything that surrounds love. How can I have had my heart broken, and felt the way I did and still be so invested in that very topic that led to that hurt. I think the truth is, I’m excessively hopeful. I don’t expect anything from anyone, or any situation, but have I been known to perhaps be too hopeful? I guess the answer would be yes. Have I hoped for certain situations to have gone entirely differently, to have gone much better? Absolutely. And it would seem, that it doesn’t matter how many times that light has been put out, I find a new way to re-ignite the hope, and belief that if it’s out there for others, then it’s out there for me too. I’m such a sucker, for seeing other people happy. And I’m always, probably too, invested in finding out why that is. I’m always curious, not just in a romantic sense, to understand someone else’s situation. I find it so intriguing when others have different life experiences to mine – I love learning what makes someone the person they are. So you can imagine, if you take that, and the fact that I love, all things love- you see how I’ve become the girl that’s notorious for wanting to know every little detail about how two people become, soul mates? Soul mates – hmm. Maybe that’s a whole new topic in itself. As I’m writing, I’m thinking – I might save this one for it’s very own blog post. I feel like there’s a lot to say on that matter. Yeah, I’m leaving this one. Another time. So, going back to the initial title of this blog. Hopeless Romantic. I have always confidently addressed myself as one of these, although I began to question of which category I fall into this title. I would give myself this label with all intention that I’m hopelessly romantic because I love, love. But I began to ask myself, Am I simply hopeless for being romantic? One thing I have learnt though. No matter the person, the situation, the environment that could potentially dim any sort of romantic sparkle I once had, the sparkle is still there. I stopped measuring my worth by how other people responded to me. It’s taken all kinds of love, laughter, humiliation, tears and heartbreak to gain the clarity I have today. I’ve never been clearer on my own expectations and wants for my future, in a romantic sense. I finally realised that I was so flattered by the idea that someone liked me that for the sake of giving things a try I let my own desires slide. But this became one of my toxic traits. I have never been more certain of the person I am and her wants, so I’m not willing to compromise the person I am anymore. So, despite the heartbreak, despite the tears, despite the mind-fuck responses from others. If like me, you’re a hopeless romantic constantly questioning why? Because that’s who you are. And it’s really fucking lovely. And if you're a lot like me, there will have been plenty of times whereby you've told yourself to stop. Told yourself to stop romanticising situations and stop believing this way. But do you know what? Don't. Don't do it. Love makes this crazy world we're in go round, am sure of it. One more time, in case the 20 times it’s mentioned in this blog wasn’t enough. I love, love. And I hope that every single person that reads this has a reason to love, love too. Ciao for now angels – see you on the flip side x