Love, or the idea of love is a wonderfully interesting and powerful topic. The talk-about potential is so vast that even at humanity's age now, we have yet to exhaust material. Granted, so much of it is repeated, but it's such a personal experience that I don't think it will ever be possible, with so many people in the world, to run the idea of love into the ground. The level of sacrifice we offer up to even the idea of love is insane though. Insane in a good way possibly, but definitely not rational.
If I had one wish...
Really? I actually had a wish, would I have used it there? I can't say whether it would have been a good choice, or a poor one, but it seems like that would have been foolish. I'm talking about, and I believe I was talking about then, a legitimate wish, one which could promote space travel for all of humanity, cure diseases, end hunger, or even on a more selfish level make me filthy rich, or a world renown author. Why did I think to spend the wish on whatever ambiguous thing that had to do with this girl. I imagine she was sad, which made me sad, and sadness mixed with love is surely a storm brought fog able to cloud any person's judgement.
Anyway, I'm preparing for my last semester in college. Love, at this point in my life, is a different thing to think about. I imagine if I were to fall in love with at this point I would be met with some difficult decisions made more difficult. Now, that could definitely be worth it (says my irrational love stained heart), but is one semester enough time to reach that point? I don't know, and I don't think I need to know. Whatever happens, happens. For now, I just want to focus on preparing myself for a writer's life. My story is coming along immensely, and I am very proud of it. Soon the foundation to an entire universe of fiction will be set in place, and I'll be able to start telling the story of stories themselves.
Finding the beginning is an impossible task.