Poetry
In a relationship filled with so many wonderful things, all I seem to dwell on is the lack of .... poetry. Can a hopeless romantic (who beyond a doubt believes in the existence of soulmates) ever truly be happy with someone who doubts the existence of true love, and scorns poetry. I'm beginning to feel a little bit like Carrie (a la Sex and the City); but where she is capable of cleverly twisting her romantic hardships into amusing anecdotes, I only seem capable of muddying up my current state of affairs even further. It seems that I'm at a draw ... I can either have a relationship brimming with romance and passion, with little room for intellectual stimulation and growth, or a relationship with little romance, and all of the other stimulation I could possibly ask for. Which is the most essential? Or more importantly, if I was in a truly healthy relationship, would I even be asking myself this question? Shouldn't my "soul mate" be reciprocating my level of romance/passion/desire with at least an equal amount of intensity?
It seems to me that this situation is being aggravated further by the fact that I have felt the intensity of emotion and adoration that I so desire (from an altogether different source), and it is intoxicating. I want to be loved so much that sometimes it physically makes my partner ache, I want to see how much they love me (and find me attractive) in their eyes, I want to be kissed like I am the very air they need to survive, and most of all, I want them to be able to share their feelings with me verbally. This seems like a great deal to ask and/or expect, and sometimes I wonder if what I'm looking for actually exists, but then I remember that I am worth too much to ever consider settling. So call me a hopeless romantic ... or worse ... but I call it "knowing what I want."
A world without poetry has no need of science ... for what could possibly be worth discovery or salvation that lacks the soul to love with purity and selflessness.
It seems to me that this situation is being aggravated further by the fact that I have felt the intensity of emotion and adoration that I so desire (from an altogether different source), and it is intoxicating. I want to be loved so much that sometimes it physically makes my partner ache, I want to see how much they love me (and find me attractive) in their eyes, I want to be kissed like I am the very air they need to survive, and most of all, I want them to be able to share their feelings with me verbally. This seems like a great deal to ask and/or expect, and sometimes I wonder if what I'm looking for actually exists, but then I remember that I am worth too much to ever consider settling. So call me a hopeless romantic ... or worse ... but I call it "knowing what I want."
A world without poetry has no need of science ... for what could possibly be worth discovery or salvation that lacks the soul to love with purity and selflessness.