Hopeless romanticism

Who the hell writes men as hopeless romantics?!?! I mean really guys-does this happen? Because in all My experience, granted it ain't much, I have yet to see one. I have seen guys who care about their significant other. I have seen men that put on a damn good display to get into a relationship. I have also seen husbands that go out of their way to do nice things for their wife. But a hopeless romantic is still some breed of lost man.
Hopeless romantic is the guy we all walk on. The one who has ideas of grandeur and of making someone else happy above himself always. This isn't some guy who does it to get the vagina points-nay-he does it because it truly is his calling. If you listed five qualities about the kid-romantic would be top 5. He mentions the girl he is is love with all the time. He makes sure he never lays a stray hand on her belly, because one day that will be the sanctum in which his child resides. He waits on her hand and foot even if ti is completely unnecessary and he ditches friends who talk about getting pussy and how they hate their girlfriends. "Those type of people don't have respect for anyone, including themselves,is the mantra." He does these things not just for 2 week relationships, but for 10 year ones that rip him apart. He still kindly answers the phone call of all the women who slummed it with him, and aren't afraid to say it. He answers if for nothing else that to say "I am sorry you are hurting, but I can't love you as I did." All the gentle kindness he had before he was torn to shreds. The hopeless romantic is the man who puts his family first and makes a point to think of obscene ways to chow he cares to everyone around him. Who goes against any cultural norm and will question them in public. I think this is probably one of the most courageous figures to depict in our society. Someone who gives a shit and is not only about number one-like our individualistic culture so preaches to BOTH sexes-is a gem indeed. I guess I have seen some women who feel this way.Many who do not know how to show it, but hold it deep inside, buried within the walls of a society that has walled her off from wanting a partner, accepting interdepence and seeking to show love above all else. I know these secrets because I am a woman-and every once in a while one of us becomes weakened and lets a very close friend know that all they want is a partner to care for and who cares for them. They want a team-not two I's. Two I people make a great team except to work together one has to sometimes think better of the we than the I and put ego aside.

Anyways-I think the movies portray a man that is like this. I do not know of any who seek what women have expressed they seek-because I am not a man and they don't tell me their secrets as they would a man.  I find this courageous and beautific creature a thing of myth at this time.
And, for the record, fuck everyone. Fairy tales do exist if you're willing to be someone else's prince charming while still desiring to be swept off your feet.

random?

The ideas have come and gone-flown and created great murders of animals whizzing above my head at break neck speeds. I haven't yet wrung any of their necks and scribed in their blood. But I will...maybe, eventually. I think, as a writer, sometimes things meld and become forgotten. I have been so overcome with writing down ideas I forgot that the joy of creation is in the art of letting it come out as it wishes. Control has no place in artistry, as it has no place in any matter of the heart. Only a fool would try to control that which motivates and guides his heart.
The ideas will ferment and fossilize eventually and maybe til then they can roam the earth. The next great natural disaster may incinerate them into my hand an demand their story be told. So it goes. SO I hope it does-because, let's be honest here, what am I if not controlled. Stifled-rather. As an aside, I notice patterns in my writing-which make me feel predictable, uninteresting and anti-creative-NO like!

I digress, I began a new counseling fraught with almost 2 hour sessions of trauma work (ahhhh), EMDR, hypnosis and neurofeedback. Hold on friends-this is going to be one wild ride. I am a little excited and more than a little afraid to pull the monkey off my back-examine it and then-hopefully discard the burden of my past. If I were a character in morrowind I would have to have maxed out my stamina by this point. . . and I have still been unable to run despite all my endurance specs. The weight has simply become too much. Here goes nothin.

Arisen

I found a tarnished box
of golden letter fortresses
I slept awhile
amidst the treasure
and polished but my portion

I ciphered all knowledge where-in
I found myself the wiser
to see the sightly loving grin
The combatant to The Miser

I found her words of wisdom there
Thereby removing visor
The labels clung along corpus collasum
questioning Life's abundant fare
I sat to bask in title
The Ariser