Heart's Crescendo

I want to travel.

Ireland beckons, but I mean - I want to travel a lot. All the time. Across the country and across the world. I love exotic locales. Part of me wants to get to an age where I'm living alone so I can head off someplace and run by my own rules. I love going with my parents. We run around together and have a general good time. But they also dictate what I get to do. Don't get me wrong - I'm never denied anything. They're more than likely to give in to whims whilst we are vacationing. My mother ENCOURAGED me to lie down in the grass when I expressed a desire to do so in lovely Ireland. 

But my 'rents - they're the early to bed, early to rise type. Unfailingly. And they worry about me if I drift off into silence. When I'm really quiet, it usually means that I'm extremely content and thinking. So everyone worried about me as I pondered while we walked the river walk. I was in fact soaking everything up so I could write about it later - but try explaining that to them.

I want to see every side of the places I go. Not just the early evening, day, and early morning. Show me the night life. Show me everything you have to offer. When I'm older, that will be a possibility, I should think. Although it may be dangerous, of course - in which case I must have a manly protector.

Yes, I rather think that my idea of a good first romantic getaway would be the beach. Virginia Beach. Walking on its moonlit shores is so undeniably romantic that even if you previously has a violent aversion to the person you stroll it with, you'll be in love. Imagine what it would do for a pair of lovers. For a second one, maybe, New York. See a Broadway show or two. Stroll the streets. A short trip, of course. For a third, San Antonio. Dinner on the River Walk, shopping, museum visits. General strolling. For your fourth, Disney World, just as a matter of fun and games. And for your fifth, the Lake Hotel on the lakes of Killarney in Ireland. Picnics, hiking, shopping, swimming, and finding lots of nooks in the endless parks. The fifth would truly be PERFECT, just the picture of what you would expect of a romantic getaway, really just...unbelievable. I hope that's how my honeymoon reads out. 

If I fell really just madly in love shortly into my college education and wanted to move in with said lover, I'd just go ahead and get married. I mean, obviously, I don't approve of living together before marriage. So we marry, and have a lot easier time of it that way while I fight my way through law school or getting my doctorate in genetics. And when I'm raking in the bucks, we have a "second wedding' - like the one I want - and our first actual honeymoon, as penned above, just flight after flight across the miles.

I want to get married in Ireland, anyway. Or in a really pretty, cathedral style church, with white and red roses, just mile upon endless mile of them, and a beautiful white dress with red accents and my hair all curling down my back... It's something faintly reminiscent of what every little girl is supposed to dream of and let go of as she becomes older and more independent and different. I've never wanted to be a princess so I could be surrounded with lace and fluff. It's always been the heroine that catches my eyes. It's from that my independent streak originates - it's just another part of me that I know exists but everyone else never sees, and even if they did see it, it'd be a "bad thing". But in my mind I AM a heroine, leastways cut out to be one, brilliant red hair like the heroines of old, strong eyes, strong and tall. I should never have been born so tall - it's dangerous, to give me that illusion that I'm just slightly superior, because of my height, that I should lead. (They've proven that extra height gives people the impression that they're cut out to lead. Certainly has me.)

Oh my goodness, this is long and progressively more off task.

How great novels are born. :D

Love everyone!
~*Riley