I'm almost 100% sure true love doesn't exist. That being said, I prefer to write romance novels. They are the easiest to conjure up in my mind because there's so many scenarios in which true love could be found, but in all honesty probably isn't in today's world. As pessimistic as I sound, I do love things outside of myself and the romances I imagine myself having. I love my cat, his name is Linus (after the Charlie Brown character). I love my family. I love my best friends;  Anarita, Grace, and Geneva (although Geneva currently hates me, but that has always been something our friendship endured). I love plants. I love art, yet I can't draw for the life of me. I love reading, for you can't love writing if you can't enjoy someone else's work, right? I love long walks, they don't have to be on the beach. I love feeling like someone loves me, even if they most likely don't in reality (this has led me to one long-term abusive relationship and a heart that's been broken one too many times). I love stories. Maybe, if I write enough I will learn to love myself too. That is the goal. So here goes. I'm going to give it another shot.