“Love will never find you while you’re on this dating quest,” she emphatically stated.
“I know,” I emphatically agreed.
We were both drinking wine.
I’m officiating a wedding this weekend for a friend I’ve known since we were nineteen. She calls me the HIgh Priestess and wants me to wear butterflies in my hair. She wants me to talk about love.
It’s a huge topic. At once simple and elegant. Unavoidable, yet hard to find. It’s bigger than all of us, but within us all. A magic trick. Fairy dust. A winking glamour who hovers in corners, saucy enough to tease us with her smile, blithe enough to appear when we least expect her, and when we need her most.
Love has a close cousin Romance, who is well-meaning, though very competitive. She likes sports and though she says she’s…
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