I ponder these words as I sit in my corner booth in the campus library: falling in love would be quite lovely. And I like to think that it would. I wouldn’t know though. I’m 18 years old, a freshman in college, and I’ve never had a boyfriend, never been on a date, and barely been kissed. It’s heartbreaking to a romantic such as me, to see love blooming around me but to not know it. Yet, in a way, it makes me happy. I don’t need love to know it exists. As long as someone else has it, I’m happy. Though falling in love would be quite lovely, I’m content in life. I don’t need much to make me happy. A good book most days, or a blank notebook and a reliable pen so I can write my woes away. Yet sometimes, I can’t help but wonder; what is it like? To be the girl with the tinkling, musical laugh, perfectly heart shaped face, amazing wardrobe, and adoring boyfriend. The picture of young adolescent perfection. But I’m content with my quiet life spent locked behind doors, poring over books that take me to places unknown, places I’ve grown to love. I find a satisfaction in the sprawl of words on scraps of paper, meandering their way into stories and, sometimes, nothing at all. Little blurbs of thought caught in the trappings of ink by a long-forgotten printing press. For these things, I am thankful. But I long for more. I long for the sloppy first kisses of one who adores me, one who stays. I long for days spent napping together, clumsy hands reaching for one another, holding each other tight and breathing each other in, sharing the soft sunlight streaming through the window. I do not need these things, but oh how I long for them..falling in love would be quite lovely.