I recently purchased a book of poems written by a man who holds a special place in my heart; W. B. Yeats. I came across a poem that was bookmarked by the previous owner called "Adam's Curse." In it a man speaks of his relationship with a "beautiful mild woman." A few lines stood out to me in particular. The first was "To be born woman is to know -although they do not talk of it in school - that we must labour to be beautiful." The second is actually the whole last stanza:
"I had a thought for no one's but your ears: That you were beautiful and that I strove to love you in the old high way of love; that it had all seemed happy, and yet we'd grown as weary-hearted as that hollow moon."
The narrator spends quite a while describing the "old high way of love," declaring that true love is found in books and ballads in poetry. Sometimes it is, but I believe that that reasoning is the cause of so much of the heartache that people are experiencing. So many people have these ridiculous expectations of love that no one could possibly live up to.
This brings me to a quote by L. M. Montgomery from her book Anne of Avonlea:
"Perhaps, after all, romance did not come into one's life with pomp and blare, like a knight riding down. Perhaps it crept to one's side like an old friend through quiet ways; perhaps it revealed itself in seeming prose, until some sudden shaft of illumination flung athwart its pages betrayed by the rhythm and the music. Perhaps...perhaps love unfolded itself naturally out of a beautiful friendship as a gold-hearted rose slipping from its green sheath."