In romantic love I mean. I mean as a thing to be desired and striven for celebrated and cherished. I mean I do believe it exists; I've seen evidence of it enough with my own eyes if not with my own heart. But I did have one of those crystalline morning thoughts on my drive to work this AM - maybe I don't really believe in it after all. I was listening to the Canadian Tenors sing about love and I cetainly do enjoy listening to handsome young men sing about such things. But I was struck and not the first time by how obsessed we are in art and music about the topic, in particular given kind of the lack of its expression in real life from day to day.
I've been in a bit of a pause with writing on my rom com, but not because I don't know what comes next, cause I do, but because I'm reluctant to make myself go there emotionally. All the rollicking set up has been done and now the stakes keep getting higher and higher for my co-protagonists. They are about to really put their respective hearts out there for to be stomped on a bit, well alot, before I can bring it on home to happily-ever-after. Which means that I have to join them in both the hopeful heart soaring butterflies in stomach bit and in the getting squished and kicked to the curb bit. Now, you might wonder what that might matter given that it is, after all, fiction. But you know what? It does matter and will be doubly hard as I have written the gosh darn thing with co-protagonists which means that they both need to go thru their own individual hell in different ways before they can come out the other side. Sigh. Now I know why good writers get paid so well. It isn't just for the 10,000 hours to mastering the words and form. Its the honesty and the hope and the hurt. I'll get there and I'll give it to you. But it will cost me.
At the end of it all though, when the orchestra swells and the rose petals fall, we'll all be all the better for it. So maybe I don't believe in romantic love. Not for me, not yet. But I sure want to.
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