To be loved...

Is embracing one's flaws a true sign of love? Or is this action sometimes mistaken in hopes that what we have is worth all the trouble. Love is the one significant action that defies all other humanistic emotions & behavior. How can one decipher rather or not they are ready when the mind rarely has a say and it is the heart that chooses? Clearly this causes a dilemma? One that I have yet to find an answer to. What gives the heart the right to invade the limits and boundaries of common sense? Making us do things selflessly, without regard, and sadly beyond all facets of reality. Why is love so ideal? Why are our fantasies crystal clear when reality seems so unsure? Unconditionally, I love the idea of love. Realistically, I love to be loved. Isn't that the main purpose?

Just to be loved?