Dear Love,

I wrote this a while back. Thought I'd post it since this is love month...

Dear Love,

I’m a hopeless romantic. I admit, what you’ve heard about me is true.

I have ridiculous dreams about what love should be, Darling.

You know that story, the one about the Princess who gets rescued by her Knight in Shining Armor?

Mmmm, or just a Mr. Darcy would do it for me.

Maybe, an Edward Cullen (book version, thank you very much).

But here you are, Love, a real man.

A real, live red-blooded male. Who doesn’t shave on a regular basis and forgets my birthday and Valentine’s Day.

And here I am, Love, a real woman.

With bad hairs days, bitchy days, cellulite, and love handles.

Not exactly a Megan Fox, Love.

Love, can you promise me forever? Can you promise me a lifetime when we cannot even see tomorrow?

The Dear Lord himself, doesn’t even promise us tomorrow, simply the right now.

I will admit, real life has instilled doubts in me about love.

It’s done a number on my romantic fantasies about men who want more than just sex.

How can you promise me tomorrow?

Love, and what if I were to get fat? Or all my hair fall out? Or by some freak accident was mangled so badly, as to be grotesque looking…

Could you still promise me forever?

And, Love, what happens when we forget what we have together?

What about those moments when we no longer want forever together?

Will we still hang on?

Can we still promise forever, then?

And what about when you catch your breath. Mouth falling open a fraction of an inch, eyes growing a bit wider.

And I look up to see what’s happened. But you’re not looking my way.

Upon turning to search for what’s kidnapped your attention, my shoulders fall a bit and that sparkle in my eye fades a shade.

The mouth of that inner voice I’ve been able to keep duck-taped shut tonight, just ripped free of its bondage.

The catalyst? That beau-tiful woman who just waltz in and single-handedly made papier-mâché of my self-esteem.

What then, Love?

Not exactly my picture perfect love story… But are there any out there?

And what about when we’ve escalated from throwing pillows, to throwing shoes, to throwing whatever we can get our hands on?

And neither one of us is throwing under-handed…

What then?

Can we still promise forever when life crashes in around us?

Will we still hold onto one another?

What about after forever?

What if we keep our promise of forever and this love turns out to be a success?

If indeed, we spend an entire lifetime together, without actually acting upon fantasies of killing one another with obscenely large steak knifes, then when we both finally arrive on the Other Side?

Will you still want me then, Love?

Because I for one might, (and only might, I’m making no guarantees here, Love) look you up.