When I tell people I write romance books, I get very differing reactions. The ones that really amaze me are the ones who immediately look down their noses at me as though I’m a child to be patted on the head and the verbiage “That’s nice, dear,” spoken in dismissal. Some act as though I have the plague and make it a point to walk as far away from me as possible.
Why is that?
What’s wrong with two people finding each other, overcoming the obstacles life places in front of them to fall in love and live happily ever after? Could someone explain to me why that’s wrong?
I love happy endings. I love it when two people find each other and even though there may be problems to begin with, they care enough for each other to work at building a relationship. To really commit to that person.
I grew up in a small town. People married for love. People stayed married because they were committed to each other. I remember so well one man and wife who never went anywhere without holding hands. Even in their 70s and 80s, they were still holding hands. That’s love.
Take my own parents, they were still together and deeply in love with one another until the day my mother died. My dad is still in love with her at 92 and still visits her grave on a daily basis. Why? Because that’s what love is all about.
You know what I think. I think those people, who look down their noses at me for writing romance books, are not in love, have never been in love and even though they may be in a relationship, don’t know how to make that commitment to another human being. They are incapable of experiencing true love for another human being.
I find that’s just sad. What about you? Do you think true love exists?