Complicated Love

I’ve got a thing for love.  I love love. And love, the love that is real, typically seems to be complicated.

If you ask me what book I’d want if I could only ever have one book for the rest of my life?  It would probably be Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. If I could only watch one movie for the rest of my life? You’ve Got Mail.  Both of these speak to my heart in a way that not much else does.

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