She was a romantic – a hopeless romantic to be exact.

She has read every book in the library. She has watched every movie released. May it be comedy, tragedy, or simply pure romance; she has read and watched them all.

She was also a dreamer. She loved to daydream. Her thoughts were always on the clouds. Her imagination would always run wild.

She loved dreaming of a prince dancing Waltz with her, a knight fighting for her honor, a jock saving her from the cheerleaders, a CEO showering her with expensive gifts, a childhood friend laughing with her; she has always loved to dream of that perfect love.

She has filled her mind of everything related to love. She breathed in romance like . She was addicted to love.

Yet she hasn’t been in love.

And that was the saddest part.

All the knowledge she has gathered seemed to be not enough in order for her to find love or for her to fall in love. It was like the emotion was hiding from her. Hiding in spots she was too blind to see or maybe too distracted to notice.

There were times when she thought it was love, feelings ghosting close to the sensation. But it was not. It was something else.

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