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I have all the materialistic things people think makes them happy: the house, the car, the successful career. But what I really want, what I truly, desperately want is romance. I want to hold my husband’s hand in a movie or when we walk to the store. I want to yell at him one minute over something stupid, then be making passionate love the next, simply because we can’t stay mad at each other. I want to be cherished, for someone to call me his own. And I want to give myself to that someone for as long as we both shall live. I want to be in love.
