I love it. I love reading romance. It makes me happy. HAPPY. It's the guarantee of a happy ending. I get to the end of the story and I am sitting there, grinning, sometimes shedding a happy tear or two, my heart swelling with so much love it seems impossible that a person is able to contain it all in. It leaves me with the happy feeling that despite everything, there are at least two people who have found each other and you are left with no doubt in your mind that they will survive it, they will be able to bear all, because of the Power of Love. Because of hope. All romances are the same.
Even greater than my love for the happy endings, it is the journey that the Hero and Heroine must weather to get to that most coveted Happily Ever After that makes it truly all worth it for me. Each person is different, with their most basic needs and their most heartfelt desires ... each person with their own revelations to make and new wonders to discover. To have two souls meet, whether by chance or by choice, and be able to follow circumstances that lead to the ever so changing emotions, feelings of confusion and doubt and apprehensions until clarity sets in and the world changes because of a simple understanding; the dawning of love, because they choose to share the love. All romances are different.
I'm certain I won't make sense half the time. That the words will just come out as jumbled and disorganized as any/all of my ramblings tend to be. Sometimes my words will not be enough. Sometimes I'll even have to borrow someone else's words to convey what I feel. I know I'm no writer, but I'll try my best to express what is in my heart anyway. And if you've reached this part of the blog, thank you. For sticking.
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