Drawn to Roses

I guess I am a bit of a romantic. Currently a hopeless one. haha. I really never thought I'd fall into that category. My best friend , Ara, and I used to make fun of those girls in our school when we were younger. We'd laugh at them. It was terrible. The hopeless romantics annoyed us with their prolific talks about this and that about true love and the boys they were crushing over but would probably be never able to get with in high school.

I wonder why I am a romantic. My mother and father are quite the romantics. My mother's fictional novels, short stories, and even her oral exaggerations of true stories about her friends are always about love, seredipity, and romanticism to a wits end. My father is even worse. His music he writes are all love songs. He sings them and then adds orchestral music in the background to make it more dramatic. It's kind of sickening having been fed this throughout my life. But it's what's molded me to be what I am now. It's kind of funny because they've both been successful with their romantic preoccupations. My mom's published well known books and my dad's produced more than a handful of albums. They've put it to good use I guess? And that's why they're married to each other.

I remember when I was only four years old, I drew this picture of a man and a woman kissing, profile view, on a large piece of paper. That was it, just their heads. It's one of the very few drawings I remember from my early age. I really don't remember why I drew that. But I remember it well, the picture itself. I guess that was better than playing with Barbie and Ken.

Everyone's got a different meaning to their life, different goals they keep aspiring towards, different priorities they live for. I think mine is, and has always been, to search for my other half. It's embarassing to sort of admit it, but it's true.

I'm a romantic, and I'm damn proud of it.

And that's why, if anything, Diego and I matched so well. But maybe that's all we had and nothing more. Not enough.