It seems the older I get, the more I am determined to not only unravel "Romantic Love,” but to understand why I need it so damn bad. The more I think about it, I start to feel that it really is all about validation. I grew up seeing many a failed, abusive, and dysfunctional relationships, and I'm quite sure this is what is behind me constantly looking to debunk the myth that is dancing around in my psyche: "Love isn't real."
I read the words, “I love you!” As my phone glowed in the darkness of my grandmothers guest room. It was the wildest summer of my life. I mean, when you're engaged to your teenage sweetheart. It should be right? I imagined many night looking up at the moon through the Venetian blinds with my two-year-old and infant daughters, that this was the point of my life where I’d finally get love right. I’d finally avoid the treacherous middle passage of emotions that single motherhood brings and I had a way out.