There was a time when I believed in “happily ever after.”
To an extent, I still do, but the romantic optimism of youth has been tempered by life, time and experience. These days I believe in “comfortably now.”
This isn’t to say I don’t believe in love; I do, and I’m happy for those who find love and live in love. I just feel … jaded about what love does to you, like how it makes you bi-polar. It brings to mind a friend who is so sure she will never be with the man she loves, she’s started negotiating with God to be with him in her next life — dare I ask, how pathetic is that?
I’m not sure where I became so jaded and cold about love and romance. Perhaps it was the thirteen years of marriage that did it, I dunno.
I know it’s out there, but maybe most of us just have bits and pieces, and we make a crazy quilt out of it. Maybe that’s all we need to keep warm.