The thing about me is

You see, I'm a romantic. At heart, I'm a true blue, sappy romantic.

I believe in "the one". I tell myself that isn't true, that you could have a true connection with many people. Not all, but many. That's what I tell myself, but deep down I believe in the one.

I think getting caught in the rain, and then coming inside all wet, and giggly, then noticing each other, and that moment - that vital, slowed down moment where you see the clothes clinging and the joy and surprise in their face slowly turn to desire, now that is romance. Sappy, huh?

Or the time when you have a deep, serious conversation that totally grabs at your heart, each of your hearts, and then suddenly you realize you have been talking for hours, and it felt so good, so easy. That is romance.

The time you do something, or say something that is really kind and unnecessary, but it is such a small sweet gesture, and suddenly you both see depth and caring. The awkward joy that follows. That is romance.

Out with others, and every joke works. The desire to ride together in the back seat, or in the same car, or sit right next to each other at the table, so you won't miss anything. Romance.

Got out of my acting class tonight. Great class. My teacher said that I brought so much confidence. ( take that K)

We did a scene where two co-workers are talking about the guys ability to flirt. They start to practice, and suddenly they are actually flirting, and it gets good. Romance.

I walked out of class, and just wanted to call someone, a female. To just tell some girl about the good scene, and my good job doing it. To hear her joy and her compliments. To meet up with her and live the same type of thing.

But there isn't anyone. That made my heart ache. It's because I'm a romantic that I wanted to do that, and it's because I'm a romantic that it hurt when I couldn't.

I think that is also at the root of my crush with TO. It started out so goddamn romantic that it is just too good in my mind to let go of. It didn't stay on that romantic path, unless you like the old Victorian style of romance, where they never get to have each other, and hurt everyone in their lives in a denial sense of retribution.

Bronte. eh.

Ok, headshots on Wednesday, and then off to work, so I might not blog, or at least, not til late.

Talk to you Thursday.