Hmm...On Love

I was thinking about love tonight...I'm doing a pastel work on love entitled "Let Us Be Lovers". In the middle of being covered in red pastel I started thinking about what it would take for me to love again. I'm not talking about sex and fondness, I'm talking about full blown, all out Love. The kind of love that makes you abandon every fear you have an trust the other. The kind of love that people die over. The great muse of all art. This would be the kind of love I would have a child for. I got very sad and just quit the drawing for the night to think hard, since I was so disturbed by the thought. I wasn't passionately in love with John when we married. In fact, I worried hard for the first two years about whether I loved him enough to continue the marriage. I grew up a lot those first two years. I realized that I had a man who loved me no matter what the hell happened. This guy thought I was the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen. And, the most important part of all, I never lost a wink of sleep about him cheating on me, ever. He had lost two marriages to infidelity (they, not him). The next three years of our marriage I was in love, the big L kind of love. When he quit breathing in my arms, I loved him so passionately it was unreal.
Is that the way its supposed to be? Just get married to a guy you are fond of, then hope for the best? I have been head over heels in love, before and after my marriage. The free falling, all or nothing kind that ended up more nothing than all. I have had lovers that made me feel alive in bed who had the personality of a work boot outside the sheets. What I don't get is why it has to be one way or the other? Or, why is it working out that way for me so far? I mean I can't really complain about my life. I like my own company, and enjoy it. My space is mine, and I am very skittish about living with someone EVER again. I can do as I please, when I please, how I please. And yet....Is this my biological clock screaming? I'm 33, and time is not on my side anymore. I have felt this gigantic urge to kick myself in the ass and DO SOMETHING with this life. I want to be an artist, I want to be in love with a man I didn't have to settle for, I want to be famous (LMAO). I want, want, want......I need to figure out what I need to do to live and love exactly on my terms. Will I have to move, quit my job, do something drastic to be what I want to be, and who I want to be with? Will passionate, do-stupid-things Love ever come back my way?
Sigh...I am no closer to finishing my painting. Love is still the BIG MYSTERY, and always will be. And I will never be satisfied.