Romance

Through all of the differing colored hues and configured lenses in which every person views life, everyone has a varying idea of romance. 

There is the quintessential definition of romance that we all, of course, know: 

          *a feeling of excitement and mystery associated with love. 

I define myself as a hopeless romantic; this used to manifest itself as never-ending day dreaming of me finding the ever-so-longed-for "one." I craved to have some sort of external assurance from the world that I would never end up alone -- never end up as the crazy cat lady who knits and watches Golden Girls more than she actually leaves her front porch. I grasped onto this idea for so long, until -- after a long string of life events -- I realized that this idea of love, romance, and LIFE did not hold water for me anymore. This idea of life and living was too narrow, too rigid, too suffocating for me. 

I have now rediscovered and embraced a definition of romance that latches onto my heart and continuously pulls me, and sometimes drags me, to new and uncharted adventures, people, and experiences: 

          *a quality or feeling of mystery, excitement, and remoteness from everyday life. synonyms include: exoticism and mystique. 

I don't want to hold onto the idea of finding "the one." I don't want my over-arching hope in life to be to find "THE ONE." I want my interactions and hopes to be wired with the passion of falling in love with as many people, places, experiences, and things as possible. I never want my love and openness for anything in this world to be muted or diluted by the comfort of finding, or having, that ONE person to extend all (or the majority) of my love and heart to. 

Of course, people can embody both definitions of romance, but I think our society force-feeds women this idea that happiness lies in an engagement ring, a white dress, and a huge party that follows; that you aren't fulfilled until you prove to the world that you are officially marriage material. I am not putting down marriage, but I am putting down the glorified pursuance of it; the idea that it HAS to happen. 

While living in Bologna, I realized that the TITLE OF SOUL-MATES is not limited to the ones your marry, or nearly marry. Your soul-mates can be friends and cities and things you haven't even experienced yet; places you haven't been. 

You can fall madly in love with winding cobbled streets lined with cafes. 

You can fall madly in love with your first friend you met at college. 

You can fall madly in love with the stranger who shares their umbrella with you, for just 5 minutes. 

You can fall madly in love with the sound of the ocean, the way the sun warms your face, and the way the cold, cold winter chaps and burns the backs of your hands. 

You can fall madly in love with the pursuance of adventure and new experiences; those rushes of adrenaline and fear. 

You can give your heart to so many things, and leave pieces of your heart in so many places -- if you choose to. There is less security in this, but to me, there is such a greater return. I don't want to live my life with the intention of reserving my heart for just ONE. 

I want to share it, diversify it, and open it to the world and all that it has to offer.