Being in love makes me a lot more cynical than I'd like to be. I think of the Romantics, Donne and Blake and Keats how did they do it? They love someone so much and they can write amazing poems about it for days connecting them to something larger -- nature and god and the beautiful inspiration and then my poems and my writings are full of despair and discontentment with life because I can feel the gravity pulling away from everyone I've ever known  focusing in on myself and my life and my goals slowing realizing I don't have any at all. I just want to live and breathe with the same person for the rest of my life, i can't even stand to sleep in a different bed that he isn't in. I can't even stand to look at someone without thinking how could they ever be as good as this, have anything as good as this. I was better to myself before and now I'm stuck to myself in love trying to find a balance between the beautiful writer I used to be and the beautiful person I am when I'm near him.