One might mistaken it for love

I have just finished reading a novel that has infuriated me. I bought it due to my sound respect for the authoress and the stream of consciousness technique that she used in her novels. 
Yet, after I had finished it, I found myself just as disappointed as I was when I read that one of my dearest writers, Fay Weldon, declared that: “As long as you have a sort of semi-good looking, able bodied, intelligent man, you should have his baby”.
Women are most fooled by two things: the look of love and the biological clock.
I find it very sad that women should have as goal getting married and having children. But most of all, I find it horrifying that women measure the material “proofs” as love.
The “love” drama depicted in this novel centers upon the story of two people, man and woman, not married to each other. The strongest of the arguments in this attempt to convince the reader about another “face” of love is that they write each other letters, every day for 10 years.
But every single one of the letters revealed the loneliness they experienced in their married life, of how they felt trapped and hoped that the other would have been different.
The she-character claimed that one man can love two women at the same time, with the same passion. While the he-character justified his fear of divorce due to social rules one must live by.
I think every one owes it to oneself to try and be happy (often marked as selfishness), to take risks and embark upon quests for happiness. And I am sure that love is not about giving proof, no matter the number of years.