if it ever gets bad, i mean really bad

So the Freak Suite Retreat was good tonight. And by good, I mean depressing. Good lord, after Love Actually, I couldn't find a bridge, a cliff, a pit of poisonous snakes, a pit of quick-sand, a seat in Lesil's car fast enough. It's nice to know that love actually is all around us, or whatever the theme of that movie was, but it also did a nice job of pointing out that love actually is one thing I really wish I had. I mean, I love people, and I'm sure there are some people out there who love me, but love. A lot of people like love stories because it reminds them of what they have or what they will have or whatever, but of course, it reminds me of what I don't have. But even worse, it makes me fear what I may never have. I think I would be okay if I knew that one, five, ten, thirty years down the road, I would find the love of my life, that person that will make my world complete, that person who I will share the most perfect bond with. But nothing guarantees that. And that mortifies me. I know I am being pessimistic, but you know, what can you do? I have a problem with logic. I have this idea in my head that because I've never had a boyfriend, my chances of falling in (mutual) love are considerably slimmer than those who have had relationship after relationship. Maybe that's the biggest fallacy known to man, but the only way you can convince me otherwise is by showing me the moment when it happens. And my problem comes full circle.