My air conditioning broke last night and as I now sit here in the sweltering heat wearing the charming outfit of skimpy tank top and boy shorts, I begin to wonder, is that other heat–the passion of romance–dead to this world? I personally know too many non-romantics wandering around the planet. Romance is a conviction, I suppose, like any other belief from faith to global warming. You either believe in it or you don’t.
Personally, I’m in love with love. And I’ve gotten a lot of sh*t about that from everyone–especially ex-lovers (go figure). All that statement really means is I that I always hope love will prevail and that I’ll have a witness to my life–who’s experiencing its moments with me–and vice versa. And mundane loneliness–the kind where you go through an entire day and no one speaks to you or even knows if you wore a kickass outfit because all you did was work in a cubicle for 10 hours–is miraculously suspended through the wonder of text messaging (and the occasional sext).
I got lucky. I found someone who asks about the little details of my life, always takes my side, and rubs my back when I’ve had a hard day. What’s not to like, let alone love? If you feel like your gag reflex is activated by the sentiment in this blog, then go put your non-romantic energy into doing something great like curing cancer or being a wonderful friend to someone who needs one. But if you’re a romantic, I encourage you: don’t stop believing. Some heat is worth the burn.