Ever since I read Love in the Western World by Denis de Rougemont back in high school, I've wondered. Do I actually fall in love with people? Or do I fall in love with the roles that traditional/popular romance sets forth? Do I actually enjoy fitting myself into romantic archetypes? Do I like setting up little tragedies just so I can feel that cathartic moment as it comes to the inevitable (or perhaps prepared) conclusion? Do I not actually want to get into a relationship because the reality of an actual relationship pales in comparison to the drama I play out in my mind?

Whenever I ask myself these questions, I have to wonder what I'm looking for in relationships--whether I'm evaluating the other person as they are or I'm evaluating them as they relate to my conception of what a relationship should be in its idealized form-which is not to say unflawed, but rather conceptualized to fit a story.

I also have to read Love in the Western World again, because I may just be blowing smoke out of my ass.