Musings at One A.M.

In the mood to write. But I am unsure of what this post will become, so enjoy the journey.
I just saw the movie "Midnight in Paris" and loved it. Loved it. I loved revisiting the beautiful sights of Paris and the witty dialogue throughout the movie.
I am an incurable romantic.
I am mystified by love. I am fascinated by how love moves and defines people. I marvel at how people will move mountains for love.
I sometimes feel like I am an observer (more than a participant) of the human experience. I am constantly watching how people interact and noticing the intricacies of life. Then I bring those observations to my students, because when it comes right down to it- EVERYTHING is driven by emotion, and the most powerful emotions are love and hate (the absence of love), ergo everything is driven by love.
Which brings me back to the romantic in me. Last week my friend read my palm. Now, I am not sure if I am a believer in that sort of thing, but I believe most things are based in truth. She said some rather generic things, but also some things that hit home for me. Upon reading my palm, a sad look crossed her face for a moment when she said, "Oh you have a lot of heartbreak." I simply nodded and shrugged.
Heartbreak. The story of this particular romantic.
Some people, when they have their hearts broken, build an impenetrable wall that no one would even dare enter. Not me. The wall around my heart is more like an unassuming hedge with flowers on it. People can come and go as they please. But, I still love them all. Sometimes I try to build a wall, but I find it is too hard for me. And so I just love. And, yes, my heart becomes broken. But every time there is someone that helps it to heal. And so my poor little mended heart continues to beat. And I continue to wonder how one finds love. The love the poets, songwriters, and playwrights felt.
Or is love just life?

"Everybody hurts just a little too much
Everybody hurts but it’s never enough
It’s wonderful to fall
It’s worth of risking all
Even if it hurts just a little too much
I’d rather love just a little too much…"

-Natasha Bedingfield

I often wonder why I have this capacity to love when love itself seems to have eluded me. What would it be like to have someone want to move mountains for me? I wonder. And I wonder if this is merely wishful thinking that has been spoon fed to me my whole life through stories... And yet, those stories had to be based in some sort of reality?
I would much rather love with all my heart and have it broken then never love at all. 
Besides, I love to love. Love in all forms. It's just who I am.