My least favorite question in the world is “do you believe in love at first sight?” My answer is always unexpected when I say no, I’m not even sure I believe in love. But at the same time I’m sure I do. Like my relationship with God, I have no doubt in my mind that it is real. To me this is the most pure and true love one will ever have. Or the love between my parents, no one would ever doubt it just by seeing the way they look at each other. But when I think of my future it is hard to see me happily infatuated with another person for eternity. Now here comes the ironic part. As much as I can’t envision myself finding my soulmate and living happily ever after, I hope for it. One might say I’m a hopeless romantic. A hopeless romantic who doesn’t believe in love, how dreadful. Now it can’t be said that I haven’t tried. In fact, senior year of high school I swore I was in love. We talked about marriage, the future, and all the other mushy crap that goes with it. But things fell apart as they often do and now I question if it was love I felt, or if I just desired that feeling so much that I convinced myself of it. Ever since that relationship for whatever reason I have chased the worst options I could find. My last boyfriend/asshole was the king of bad options. My best friends constantly told me he was bad news but all I could believe is he would one day change and turn into my knight in shining armor. Needless to say with this emotionally-baggaged douchebag this did not happen. In fact I’m almost certain I knew of this all along which is why I wanted him so bad. But still, the romantic in me prays that one day someone will come along and change my pessimistic outlook. We will have the most adorable children and live in a house with a white picket fence. Taylor Swift would be so proud.