Quixotic Spinster

I have always believed in love. The kind of which numerous novels, songs, poems and movies have pondered over and longed for. I envy the days of courting filled with whitful flirtatious banter...authentic romance. Did this antiquated style of dating surrender with the quest of equality? Did the demands of women quell the hearts of men?
Love is truly the even playing ground for ALL. Status, past, profession, class, none of this really matters now; Does it? For some the offerings of a secure financial life are of the utmost importance. A blanket, equivalent to monetary proportions justifies a life together regardless if the heart reciprocates. How can a person share a bed...memories with a lobotomized heart?
This notion disturbs me to the point that my bones shake. But. What if we never find love? The kind that stops time, ameliorates whatever ailes, sees only sky and offers a solidity even the ground cannot.
What is to become of these Jane Austens' of the 21st century? Should we acquire insouciant lovers and flaunt them to distract our lonely hearts? Or should we accept what has been given and take power in the freedom and independance?
Life and heart are not always in communication. At many times the conversation of what is DESIRED and what is being EXPERIENCED get lost in translation. Then a woman is left to either stare at her feet or look up to the sky and wonder, " Do I take what is now? Or do I await what COULD be?" How long is too long in waiting for the ethereal promise that is-LOVE?
To a person, mere seconds are a lifetime. To the soul, a lifetime IS mere seconds. Is there shame in faithful patient hope? Hope. The intangible numberless clock. The only star returning your gaze.
I sit here, ruminate, take a sip of spanish red wine, close my eyes and hope on the star I think saw me...