of white roses and hot chocolates

Flipping through old posts always leaves me feeling guilty of being pompously garrulous. Yet there are times when I feel like I haven't said enough to get my point across. I've always stated clearly (or so I thought) that I want a love so real that it's almost tangible. A love mad enough to shake up my too organized world. Shaken, I am, undeniably. Shaken and swept off, to be exact. Sadly, as I run off relishing promises of white roses and shared mugs of hot chocolates on cold, rainy days, I would find myself falling flat on my face and realizing a little too late it was all a mirage. Have I been too parched that I am hallucinating of white roses and hot chocolates?

Am I being delusional? You tell me.