Some mornings I can't help but wake up a cynic. After all, the world is full of hatred and rage. Every time I turn on the news I see another story about someone giving up their life in order to take away someone else's. Can love even exist through all the hate?
When it comes to men, I've seen my fair share. I've been cheated on. I've been abused-- emotionally and physically. I've been scared. I've been threatened. I've been left for a friend. I've been heart-broken. I've been lied to. I've had promises made and then broken. I have every right to be cynical.
Yet somehow, I still believe in all-consuming love. I believe in a love that makes you stop and appreciate the wind on your face. I believe in a love that people write books and screenplays about. I believe in a love you can tell your grandchildren on Christmas Eve. I believe in a love that stops you in your tracks and compels you to change courses. I believe in a love that Shakespeare would be proud of. I believe in a love that endures all-- space, time, death.
I might sound like a 8 year-old hyped up on Disney when I say this, but I truly believe that kind of love will find me one day. I'm more than willing to wait for it. Maybe my life is like Scarlett O'Hara's. All my life I've been preoccupied with my Ashleys. I fuss over them and fall for them--- but in all reality, I don't really love them.
One day my Rhett will come along. I'll look right past him at first. However, I will soon find that he'll be everything I absolutely need in my life. (Even though he wasn't anything I was looking for!) And when he walks into my life and my heart, I'll never be able to see my world without him. Perhaps that's the mark of real love-- of a real all-consuming love.
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