I am a hopeless romantic.
I believe in "the one"---where destiny steps in, the stars align and divine intervention takes place.
I believe in men wearing crisp gray suits like Cary Grant's and opening the door and wooing their beloved.
I believe in early mornings watching the sunrise and nights that spill over to the next day because we're too busy counting the stars and telling stories and kissing and lying there in silence.
I believe in good. That people have this inner tug-of-war they play within their hearts. That we all long to be the heroes and save mankind.
I believe in a life of deep connections where the phone and the television and the computer disappear and laughter comes easy.
I believe in women feeling beautiful.
I believe in a world where the hungry are fed, children are loved and neighbors borrow one another's sugar.
But then I hear of war and hurricanes and a child dying because he had no food while I go out and spend six bucks on thank you cards that will probably hit the trash quicker than you can say, "Six bucks would've given that dead child a meal" suddenly the world seems a little less beautiful and a little less like a fairytale and my romanticism slowly turns into the dark cynicism that creates blank stares on the faces of everyone I meet.