Love is a burst. Of feeling, of commitment, of gratitude, of contented bliss. Someone once asked me why I was single. Answered simply, people are selfish and I am too giving and I have not found a true accomplice who makes me burst forth. But I always have hope.
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I have a love affair with how stories unfold. It can come from anywhere. Always in search of a good story and always enthralled by a good story teller.
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