The Love Story

Whether it's a tragic doomed romance, the intense story of the hero saving the damsel, the classic opposites attract scenario, or the cheerful "buddy" story that develops  between friends, the best part of any story is the love story. People and relationships. That's what people identify with, and that's the part of the story I remember most. I think that stems from my ability to fall in love, romantically or otherwise.  I call it an ability, but it is also a weakness.
Women often have a "built-in" motherly love. It's the reason we cry every time we watch Dumbo (and don't act like you don't know which scene I mean). Everyone needs a home, a meal, and a snuggle. My sister Tirra and I have particularly large soft spots in our hearts for animals. Just yesterday a friend of mine mentioned finding an abandoned and abused dog, and I of course wanted to take it home without hesitation (unfortunately I am not in a position to pay the pet deposit at my apartment, or the deed would have been done). Motherly love sometimes trickles into our romantic lives. We want to "fix" our mates. We date a man not for who is now, but for the man he has the potential to become. Then, down the road we realize that we don't really want to be our boyfriend's mother. And that he doesn't really want a girlfriend--he wants a mother--and we have only been enabling, not helping.
Oh romantic love. Nothing can fill the soul quite like it, and nothing can cause the same kind of heartache. In high school and college I was often pining over unrequited love.  I fell in love easily and often, usually with someone who was both undeserving of my affection and in love with someone else. If he wasn't in love with someone else, he became so after spending time with me. On multiple occasions I was the girl that the "he" went out with that made him realize that he wanted to marry the "her".  Then there were the times that the physical chemistry masked the lack of emotional connection. Inevitably, his brain would catch up (Abort mission! She likes you too much!) and he would end the relationship. Naturally I would be devastated. I still thought I was in love.
On a much different note: Conclusions are not my strong point. I have been sitting here for about ten minutes thinking about how to wrap up this post. I can't just end it with "I still thought I was in love". There's no sense of accomplishiment. No sense of my point being made. Nothing that ties it all together. Plus it is kind of whiny, which makes me seem altogether unhappy. I am not unhappy. I am very happy.
Who doesn't want a fairy tale ending? Oh I'm sure we can all think of several people who don't believe in happily-ever-afters, but isn't the point of fiction? To willingly suspend your disbelief and enjoy the ride? And isn't the ride more enjoyable when there is a charmingly flawed hero trying to capture the heart of the jaded heroine?