Sunday, November 21, 2010

Who knows, even?

"If we seek the pleasures of love, passion should be occasional, and common sense continual." Robertson Davies

Everyone says that love is supposed to be that thing in your head that drives you crazy and makes you want to do strange things that you wouldn't otherwise ordinarily do. It sounds like the only way you could ever truly know that you're in love is if you're finding yourself commandeering a vehicle and engaging in a high speed pursuit on the way to the airport where you have no problems dropping major coin on an international flight only to catch her before she boards to pursue her life long dreams. Let's be real. Some people will never find themselves in that situation. I'm not saying "no one" I'm not even saying "most"--but for a few people, this might be an unlikely scenario. And those people could be confused because television don't often end series finales with two people sitting on a couch with a bag of gummy bears and an InStyle between them. But, honestly, that idea seems a lot less terrifying and infinitely more tangible than spontaneously booking a flight to Wales. I mean, how can you have an ordinary Tuesday night after that? Serious time.

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