I've had many love affairs in life -- men, women, myself, but the things I fall for hardest are ideas. The very thought of fine art or romantic music is enough to send shivers down my spine. Every now and then I'll stroll through the museum or listen to a symphony and feel so completely satiated it seems as though no one else exists. I'm ravenous about books, enthralled by scientific theories and I'm completely engrossed by the idea of love -- experiencing love itself, however, is a foreign concept. Sure I've read about it in Gothic novels and have seen it in Julia Roberts' movies, but I've never really felt so strongly for another human being I'd be willing to betray my country. Does this mean I am incomplete as a person? Should I feel unhappy because I love ideas more than people? Is it possible to be complete having never loved completely?
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