Chick flicks? Why are they so popular? Why are we such dyed in the wool romantics that we continually gravitate toward fairy tales, novels, movies, anything that stirs our hearts and reminds us we were young once and were viable candidates for the starring role in our own once upon a time?
Our bodies may be old but our hearts are still beating. Is it possible to turn off the romantic spigot that still churns out the desire for palpitations caused by a sideward glance, a too-long gaze, a daydream, a song lyric, a love note?
Must our fairy tale only happen once, then fade away and turn to something predictable and careworn? Is this why marriages are set aside and families abandoned? Is this why people walk away, searching for a renewal of the dream? This screams travesty and yet the pining seems strong and real enough that sense often is pushed aside in favor of chasing those long lost palpitations.
What is the answer then? Are movies a good idea to replace the longing? Or are they part of the problem? Are novels an escape, or a too-potent reminder of feelings, delights, drama that are never to play in one's heart again?
Maybe books and movies paint an unrealistic picture of the dream of true love. Did music really swell in the soundtrack of my own great romance? It seemed to. Did my prince charming really spring onto the scene with heart stopping, breathtaking heroics? That is how the memories play out in my head.
Then why could I ever hope to have them replaced with something new? How could anything new be better than the reality that was?
The problem is my heart still thinks it is young.....
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