You and me, babe. How 'bout it?

I'm in love with love, my friend says.  Worse, in love with the pain of the potential tragedy.

Of all the girls in all the world, couldn't Romeo have just picked another one? 

No.

There was no choice.  It's not that the girl was wrong -- the wrong place, the wrong time, the wrong lifetime, the wrong something.  With all that, the girl was right. Where's the choice?

The potential for tragedy is there whenever you love.  Most of us are in love with that feeling, too.  Without that feeling, there would be no love stories, no tragedies, no romances, no tales of high adventure or war stories, no Disney cartoons, no tales of heroism and honor.  For what else is the fight for, ultimately, if not for love?

The potential for tragedy is there whenever you love.  You can have that love and then lose it.  Lose her.

You can have that love, never try and always wonder; part of you pining forever.

For years, my friends said I aimed too high.  I was unrealistic.  But what's worse, to try for what you want and fail, or to never try and always wonder?  Heartache can be big or small, so what's the bigger tragedy?  I have my answer.  There is no choice.

There's not one song, movie, poem, or story that's got every element that I need, some end right, some end wrong...  This one leaves you hanging, and ends when it's still beginning.

From Dire Staits' "Romeo & Juliet," as sung by The Killers

A lovestruck Romeo, sings the streets a serenade
Laying everybody low with a love song that he made
Finds a streetlight, steps out of the shade
Says something like, "You and me, babe.  How 'bout it?"

You and me, babe.  How 'bout it?