*sitting in a circle, in a church basement*

“Hi, my name is Ryann and I am a hopeless romantic”

“Hi Ryann”

Like every other little girl, I was obsessed with the Disney princesses. Their hair, their gowns, and most importantly, their flawless love lives, not to mention the princes. In middle school, I was incredibly too shy to talk to any boys, so I crushed from a safe distance and made up ridiculous scenarios in my head about me and the boy falling in love and having the perfect middle school relationship. Phiten included.

In high school, I found love, the rare and true kind, but that poor boy wasn’t even one of the ones I was crushing on, he was friend zoned. After that heart wrenching break-up, the made-up scenarios popped back up in my head about him returning to school to ask me to my homecoming dance or surprising me with flowers on my doorstep or showing up in the rain to pronounce his ever-dying love for me… he never did.

Even now I expect these drunken fraternity boys to come waltzing down my dorm hall to whisk me away on a fabulous date or for one of them to take things seriously and pursue me in a chivalric way.

I blame my mom for making me watch all those Hallmark movies.

But there is something about love that captures my attention. I obsess over it. The butterflies that appear in your stomach when you look at the one who you love. The ear-to-ear grin that is permanently plastered on your face after a perfect date with the perfect guy. The way your heart beats a little too fast when that special person is around.

Love is an incredibly magical, dangerous, unpredictable thing that I have always had a weird thing for.

I am so gushy, can you tell?

I crave the big gestures and little moments that plague the Hallmark channel. You know what I am talking about, there is one in every rom-com. I want a guy to love me so much that he runs through the airport for me, or drives too many hours just to see me, or confesses his love in a heart-racing way. I want to kiss in the rain and be surprised by flowers that were delivered to my work and be in love forever.

But once and a while I must slap myself across the face and return to reality. I am in college, where the most romantic thing that happens is when a boy buys you alcohol.

It is surprising when a boy opens car doors for you or takes you to a fancy dinner or gets you flowers.

Yes, I am a hopeless romantic and yes that does set my standards high sometimes, but why are girls willing to lower their bars so low for a guy to be interested in them? Why is being a hopeless romantic so wrong and laughed at?

Why can’t boys get their heads on straight and realize that if they would just put in some effort, buy some flowers, surprise their girl once and a while, that their lives would be a hellva lot easier.

Being a hopeless romantic in this day in age is exhausting and puts a lot of wear and tear on the heart, however, it can be rewarding because the guy that exceeds my expectations, the one who kisses me in the rain and runs through the airport for me, is the one who I will marry and live happily ever after with, just like those princesses.