Mr. Knightly, can I borrow your number? I seem to have lost mine.

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more." ~Mr. Knightly

Posting my ode to Emma was apparently a little premature...There is so much more to write. 

As I finished watching the aforementioned adaption of Emma, very much caught up in the moment, maybe even pretending Mr. Knightly was professing his love for me, I was struck with overwhelming emotion.  (Although, I might mention that currently I am overwhelmed with emotion frequently.)  What powerful feelings are in "I love you".  

Imagine, if you will, a beautiful man, someone you could spend the rest of your life with, telling you he loves you for the first time.  The multitude of emotions that must wash through a person like a broken levy.  First, I imagined relief, that the person for which you have been waiting is standing right there in front of you.  No more searching, or for those of you like me that refuse to go on a man hunt; no more wondering.  He is here.  He has arrived. 

The barrier that breaks down once he is yours.  Before there was this invisible wall preventing your touch or your feelings to break through.  A minute ago he wasn't yours, then suddenly he is! 

What I don't understand is why people don't wait for this.  Why do people settle?  It is a notion I will never comprehend.  I have said it before, and I will say it again...I'd rather be single for the rest of my life than settle for a man that I am not incandescently head over heels in love with, and that love returned.  I will accept nothing less than butterflies.

I imagine a paramour that plays a multitude of roles in my life, much like Mr. Knightly to Emma: best friend, lover, big brother, disciplinarian (yes, to an extent, he only wanted her to be the best possible version of herself, and called her out when she wasn't acting like the woman he knew she could be).  That is a love that could stand the test of time.  It is when relationships don't have all these elements, that they do not work out, I think. 

I've been told I have very high expectations.  Are these expectations or standards?  Regardless, I have a little something called faith. 

"Listen, when I was a little girl I used to spend hours looking for ladybugs. Finally, I'd just give up and fall asleep in the grass. When I woke up, they were crawling all over me" ~Katherine from Under the Tuscan Sun

One day I will wake up with "Ladybugs, Katherine, lots and lots of Ladybugs."