My Chemical Romance.

I watched her happily for some time and faded the discourse to and from one subject or another. I found that she had studied English and Mathematics alongside Music. I told her that her pursuit of Truth was admirable and she denied it. She claimed instead to be a realist, interested in only that which was tangible. I considered that her choice of study was esoteric, or perhaps metaphysical yet she could only tell me that

Love is limited

I fought such sentiment immediately. She encouraged my romance yet denied its truth. I told her that there is no room for realism in love, only in life, and that she should never find happiness if she could not abandon herself to someone. She said that she had been burned too many times before and I told her that she must dream. For what is life without dreams? And this led to a discussion of charity, and utopian impossibilities.