I am a bit of a hopeless romantic. I really do have a faith and a

In the words of Melanie Fiona, “I am a bit of a hopeless romantic. I really do have a faith and a belief in love, and when I love, I love hard.” These words reveal not weakness, but the raw courage of a soul unafraid to pour itself fully into affection. To be called a hopeless romantic is often seen as naïve in the eyes of the world, yet in truth, it is an ancient title of honor. For the one who dares to believe in love, despite heartbreak and betrayal, is the one who proves that the heart is stronger than despair, and that faith in beauty is mightier than cynicism.

The faith Fiona speaks of is not a blind optimism, but the sacred conviction that love is real, eternal, and worthy of pursuit. In the teachings of the ancients, faith was not merely belief—it was action, a steadfastness that endured even when all signs pointed to failure. In this way, to have faith in love is to rise after every fall, to open the heart even when it has been wounded, to declare that tenderness is more powerful than bitterness. It is not hopelessness, but the highest form of hope.

History shines with examples of those who loved in this way. Think of Abelard and Héloïse, whose letters across the centuries still tremble with devotion. Their love was fraught with tragedy—separation, exile, and suffering—but Héloïse wrote that though the world had stripped them of peace, she would rather have one moment of their union than a lifetime without it. Here is the essence of loving hard: to give without measure, to choose love even when the cost is great, to declare that the sweetness of devotion outweighs the pain it may bring.

To love hard, as Fiona declares, is to live with intensity. The ancients often compared love to fire, and rightly so. A fire may warm, or it may consume; it may light the darkness, or reduce all to ash. Yet what coward would prefer the cold to the flame? The one who loves hard knows that the fire may wound, yet embraces it still, for to feel deeply, to give fully, to risk wholly is the essence of being human. To live without such fire is to drift through life half-asleep.

And yet, the world will often scorn the hopeless romantic, saying, “Be cautious, guard your heart, hold back.” But what is gained by such guarding? A life of safety, perhaps—but also a life without glory, without the exaltation that comes from surrendering to love without reserve. The ancients sang epics of heroes who risked life and limb for love—Paris for Helen, Orpheus for Eurydice—not because they were prudent, but because they dared to love hard. Such love may not always succeed, but it always transcends.

The lesson, then, is this: do not be ashamed if you are a hopeless romantic. Rather, wear it as a crown. Let your heart be bold, let your faith in love stand unshaken even when the world mocks it. For love is not weakness—it is the strongest force known to humankind, the very power that binds generations, builds nations, and redeems suffering. To believe in love is to stand against despair; to love hard is to live fully.

And what must you do? Open your heart, even when fear whispers caution. Give deeply, speak truthfully, cherish boldly. Do not ration your affection as though love were scarce, but pour it out as though it were infinite—because it is. When you love, love hard, for the ancients remind us that time is fleeting, and the opportunity to love may vanish in an instant. Let your life be marked by the fire of love, not the chill of restraint. In this way, you will leave behind not only memories, but living proof that faith in love is never in vain.