Poetry fluff

At my core, I'm a gooey, saccharine, hopeless romantic--I often try to hide it, though (and I'm probably not very good at it--I'm a terrible liar). I am attracted to guys who are rational, linear, analytic thinkers, and, at least in my experience, being a hopeless romantic tends to turn that kind of guy off.  I'm not sure if it is because they perceive romance and sentiment as neediness or if they just see it as unnecessary, but it usually means that I dial my romantic side back when I'm in a relationship.  I'm not ashamed of the fact that there is still a little girl inside of me that wants to be a princess swept off of her feet by a knight in shining armor. I've just grown realistic enough to know that most knights have tarnished and dented armor.  Besides, I am not the kind of girl that needs saving.  As much as I like the idea of a knight in shining armor, I think my parents instilled their daughter with just a little too much of their mid-western independence and ingenuity for me to be a passive princess, and my temperament is just a little too feisty to be resignedly patient.

This is one of the windows on the same floor as my office. Kind of looks like something you might see in a fairy-tale castle, doesn't it?

That being said, the sentiment of the following song appeals to my romantic side, and it captures the wistful hope that many single women have, just as it points to what it means to being open to whatever God has for us.

The longer I'm single, the more I suspect that I will remain so, and I'm good with that--life might not be how I envisioned it when I was in high school and college, but I have a blessed life: A wonderful job, an awesome parish, affectionate fur babies (err, pets), and tons of nieces and nephews to spoil.  It doesn't keep me from dreaming sometimes, though.  And, that is where this particular poem came from.  It is corny, but like the above song, shows a wistful hope for what may or may not happen.

The Dreams of this Hopeless Romantic

To be kissed senseless while held in a dip

To receive flowers for no reason at all

To be serenaded on some moonlit night

These are the dreams of this hopeless romantic

To be asked to pray at the end of each date

To be surprised with an impromptu lunch

To take classes together for ballroom dance

These are the dreams of this hopeless romantic

That he'll hold my hand during everyday moments

That he'll read me poetry for bedtime stories

That he'll cherish me all of our days

These are the dreams of this hopeless romantic

That he'll communicate with just a look

That he'll be deliberately pursue our courtship

That he'll place Christ at the center

These are the dreams of this hopeless romantic

That I'll want to bear his children

That I can help him get to heaven

That I will love him all my days

These are the prayers of this hopeless romantic

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When I was younger, I would often separate out my gooey romanticism from my practicality--the older I get, the more I wonder if there is a way to reconcile these two disparate parts of my personality.  Is there such a thing as a practical romantic? If so, that is what I'd like to become.