“Unless it is mad, passionate, extraordinary love, it is a waste of time. There are too many mediocre things in life. Love should not be one of them.”—Dream for an Insomniac
Everything that I do long-term is fueled by passion. I won’t work a job that I am not passionate about for a long period of time, and I won’t be with someone who does not give me butterflies. I refuse to eat mediocre food, have mediocre sex and live a mediocre life. Call me crazy, a dreamer, and a hopeless romantic, or just plain unrealistic.
But one thing you will never be able to say about me is that I settled. Especially when it comes to love.
My steadfast commitment to passion does not ignore the fact that other areas in life will undoubtedly require your attention, feelings and emotions. Nor does it glance over the certainty that people change. But passion, that undeniable urge to be all over someone, should never go away. You should never look at your mate and feel nothing.
I was talking to a friend a while ago. During our very candid conversation, I told her I didn’t feel like she was passionate about the man who she was seeing at the time. Their relationship was good, but it seemed so… robotic, so standard.
He did everything a good boyfriend should, and she was one of the best partners a guy could ask for. On the outside, they appeared to be a perfect match. But that chemistry, that undeniable flame present when two people are on opposite sides of the room? Nah.
“Shantell, everyone isn’t like you. Some of us would rather settle for what works than for what drives us crazy,” she reasoned.
I didn’t have as much perspective on her response back then, but looking back on it, my guess is that she equates passion with insanity―with losing control of herself.
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