I'm a hopeless romantic

Love comes easily to me. Since I was thirteen, the longest I have been single is about four months and a combined total of about a year. I’m not proud of this. Nor am I proud of the drunken disasters and friendships-made-awkward that are my hapless flings. But now I am single and I plan on being single (save for a few more hapless flings, maybe) for a while, at least until I find someone who outshines all the boys who have been a part of my hopeless romanticism.

Love is what rocks my world. Love is probably what I’m best at. No, I’m not crazy and obsessive, I just really like boys. And no, I’m not trying to be Carrie Bradshaw. I’m more dark and twisty than her, and far less successful. And I’m not a some self important hipster who thinks people care about my (not so) interesting life.

It’s just that... I have all these thoughts and feelings and I want to share them with someone. I’m afraid my friends have grown tired of my addiction to love. And I hope that spilling my guts on the page will help me unravel myself a little.

I am a hopeless romantic.