On love...

Have you seen Sense & Sensibility, the film adaptation of one of Jane Austen's works, that starred Emma Thompson, Kate Winslet, Hugh Grant and Alan Rickman? Wonderful movie. I don't know, but there's something about these films or stories that I just love. I get lost in it. Absorbed. Moved. Like I'm part of it, and I feel every emotion. Maybe in my past life I was an Elinor Dashwood.

Or Elizabeth Bennet in Pride & Prejudice.

Maybe I once lived in the romantic olden days, when men knelt down when they proposed, read poetry and spoke so beautifully. The old world where women dreamt of true love and passion, and men stammered with emotion when professing their love.

Yes, I am a hopeless romantic. Blame it on authors like Jane Austen. They keep the memories of of a kind of romance long forgotten alive in the hearts of few dreamers like me, who still imagine rainbows and Shakespeare and being swept off one's feet. Aah.. glorious love. If only it still existed in our time. The future has changed the face of romance. No more dashing debonaire on horseback. Or gentleman so besotted he cannot speak straight or dace touch a girl's hand for fear of rejection. No kissing, only curtsies and staring passionately into each other's eyes.

You cannot imagine the pleasure your presence has brought upon me has long been replaced with phrases bolder but far less romantic. Love is so different now. It has changed with the times, evolved into something shinier, slicker, compact, quick, uncomplicated and more daring - but in the process has lost all its elegance. You can just imagine how things - relationships - will be years or generations from now. One simply cannot bear to imagine.

But, for as long as the stories of Jane Austen exist and are remembered, the glory that was once Love shall live on - yes, in the hearts of few dreamers like me.