Love is an interesting concept, it's different for different people and often comes in a variety of forms. For the longest time, I have fallen asleep to the idea of a beautiful romance. When I was in the sixth grade I used to dream of Tim Tebow and I scampering off to a football field somewhere and kissing in the rain.

I dreamed of Bruno Mars and I sitting out under the stars, laying down and sharing a kiss. I fantasized about being an American Idol contestant and having Ryan Seacrest fall for me. I made up stories in my head about how I would marry Harry Styles or Niall Horan while touring with them across the world and gaining the admiration of the rest of One Direction. My entire life has been full of fantasies and the life of romance that I wanted to live.

I grew up on fairy tales that I made myself.

I always did that. I was always searching for my next person to dream about. That was just my life. I was in a fantasy so deep that at times I felt like it was a way place to be than reality. I preferred my thoughts. I never paid attention in school. I always let my brain wander to thoughts of falling in love with a boy band member or having a celebrity obsess over me.

What sucked the worst is when I felt I had to come out of all of it. I became bombarded with reality. In reality, guys weren't what I thought they would be. They left you quickly and wanted sex and always seemed to be working at some sort of backward agenda to get what they want. Power hungry and manipulative is two descriptors I came to know a little too well. My thoughts of love and romance began to dwindle a little as I came out of my land of dreams.

I still like to be there. I still like to live among my dreams of happiness and joy, but sometimes it becomes a little difficult when I have to continually awaken to the harshness of reality. As I got older too, I found myself almost gasping for the ability to still dream, like I was losing it. It almost seemed that with my age, my ability to dream was fading from me fast. I wasn't able to happily fall asleep to my fantasies every night as I once was.

Maybe it was the stress of growing up or being diagnosed with depression and anxiety at age 16, but the reality was crushing to me and I was trying my best to hold onto my fantasies as the world ripped them from me.

It became evident to me that I like the idea of things. I am a romantic, to be honest. I like the idea of love. I like the concept of love and all the fun perks and bragging rights that come with it. I don't think I want a boyfriend (or girlfriend) so much to love someone as to show it off. I want to post the pictures on social media, have my parents fawn over him, or have my family say I finally found the one. I like the concept of saying "my boyfriend" and my friends asking about him. I like the idea of going out to eat, to art museums, to bookstores, or cuddling with someone I love.

I am forever in love with the idea of love.

Maybe I love being in love even though it is a weird concept and I remain uncertain as to if I have ever even fully experienced it yet. I liked imagining me and my partner going to Disney World, buying cute gifts for Valentines Day, or posting photos on Instagram. I loved the idea of it all. It all seemed too beautiful.

However, spending time alone and dealing with their personality was a whole other battle I hadn't really planned on fighting. Knowing them as an individual, arguments, and others things all repeatedly kept happening whenever I tried to get in a relationship. I would bring up politics or they would ask for sex or something and I would run as far as I could. It wasn't always me doing the running.

Many times I had people I loved or wanted to make it work with run far away from me and at times we both did a mutual running. I ran my direction and they ran their direction, both of us bolting away from one another.

One thing I realized quickly is that love wasn't the fluffy romance I watched in my sappy teen movies when I was younger.

It wasn't what I dreamed of when I was younger, falling asleep to the fantasies of Zayn Malik professing his love on a talk show, Niall kissing me in front of his bandmates, or Bruno Mars laughing with me under the stars. It was different than all that.

Those thoughts of childhood are innocent dreams that I still hold with me today. I still want very much to believe that there is a love out there. I want to believe that there is someone who is completely sure of who they are and aren't still trying to figure it out. I want to believe there is someone who won't ask anything of me and love me wholeheartedly. I want to believe there is someone that lives up to all the fantasies I had as a kid, someone who is literally only interested in happiness and what I want.

Someone who holds my opinions in the highest regards and doesn't try to push what they want on me. I want to believe there is someone who communicates well, who says what they're thinking without being hurtful and who works to come to conclusions.

I want to believe there is someone to go to Disney World with, eat ice cream with, and share the life I fantasized about when I was younger. I want to believe in the sappy tween movies I watched when I was younger.

Yes, I am indeed fantasized about love as a concept.

I am entranced and sometimes obsessed with posting cute pictures, telling people I have a significant other, and doing all the giving each other cute gifts. I am obsessed with good morning texts and knowing someone loves me. I want to wear jewel around my neck or crystals on a keychain and inform others that the one I love gave them to me.

Perhaps I am just in love with love. I love the concept of having someone and of everyone around you knowing you have someone. I am in love with the appearance of love and how it often makes others respect you more. Once when discussing feminism, a guy said, "well, she has a boyfriend, she can't be that bad." She was valid because she had a man. Someone would voluntarily spend time with her and decide to love her, thus adding worth to her. I don't want to add worth. I can do that on my own. What I do want to do is believe that love is alive. I want to believe that the fantasies are real. I want to believe that the stories are true. I want to find someone I am obsessed with and is obsessed with me. I want to further love as so much more than a concept. I want a reality. I am infatuated with a concept. I am in love with love.