Unfortunately, as a result of watching too many Disney movies as a child, I have become something of a hopeless romantic. You would think after seeing so many relationships dissipate in front of my eyes that my romantic and naïve view of love would go away, but parts of it still remain.

For some strange reason I’m still under the impression and still hope that Prince Charming exists and at any moment he will suddenly appear and swoop me off my feet…or at least buy me dinner. But there’s always this gnawing feeling threatening to burst the idealistic bubble in which I choose to reside. It’s a voice telling me to snap out of my daze and realize that the closest I’m going to get to Prince Charming is in my dreams.

I’m sure someone out there, in a distant land, far far away has found their one true love, who treats her like royalty and loves her unconditionally. It would just be nice if I could actually see it.

Before coming to college, my mom didn’t tell me I would meet Prince Charming, but she did tell me there was a likely chance I would meet my husband. She said, “The best place to meet your husband is in college; it’s possibly the last time in your life where you will be confined in an area with so many single goal-oriented people.” Originally I felt like she was telling me if I didn’t date anyone in college I would end up an old spinster with twenty cats. And seeing as I already had one, I was well on my way.

Even though she had me a little scared, I understood where she was coming from. She was telling me to be mindful that there is a high probability that the person or one of the people I date in college will become my husband. Doesn’t mean I’m going around looking at the faces of every guy on campus wondering if he’s the one, but it does just makes you think.

However, it didn’t make me think of whom it would be or what he’d look like, instead it made me think, “Does it even matter?”

Does it even matter when or how or why he comes, as long as he comes? But then I started analyzing it even more and began to think it won’t matter because if he comes because there’s no guarantee he’ll stay. Who says my prince will still be my prince in five, ten, fifteen years from now? So many times people marry the ones they love only to find out they’re not who you thought they were. They fall out of love with you, they cheat, they break the vows they made, and you’re left. You’re left on the ground soaked in the tears that dropped from the idealistically romantic bubble you once comfortably lived in.

I allow my mind to wander down that pessimistic road for a little, but then I stop. I stop because I remember the little girl sitting in front of the TV fixated on Ariel falling for Eric. I think of that little girl smiling at the sight of her dad coming home from work and walking happily towards his wife to give her a loving kiss. I think of the little girl watching her grandparents grow old together, and that kind of love has to be out there, he has to be out there. I may never find them, but someday for someone, they will come.