Admit it, you start to slip into a coma the instant someone else starts spewing the horrifically saccharine details of their great love story. I do too; it just doesn’t stop me from being the mushy bore myself the moment I see a hairline of an opening. Honestly, don’t we all do it? There’s nothing much any of us are more inclined to brag about than our happiness, and nothing much that gives us greater happiness than fancying ours the Greatest Love Story in History.
You can be forgiven if you didn’t know yet that that title was already mine.
Particularly since I’m quite certain my love story doesn’t conform quite perfectly to your–or anybody else’s–idea of the ideal romance. We’re not much, around this household, on many constant and overt expressions of commercially endorsed couplehood: bouquets of roses, spontaneous gifts of expensive jewelry and sports cars, and going out to chateaux with extravagant four-star restaurants to toast each other over mortgage-worthy vintages are just not high on the list of things we often do. On the other hand, I am in the company of someone still teenager-enough to really like holding hands, hugging like there’s no tomorrow, and blurting out “I love you” pretty much every few minutes or so, even if we happen to be sitting right next to each other. He also reads to me, cuts my hair, laughs at my pitiful jests, cooks for me when there’s time, takes me on meandering road trips or spectacular world travels when the opportunity arises, covers my eyes when the really gruesome surprise is coming up in a scary movie he’s seen before so I won’t have to be tranquilized later, and sings me ridiculous made-up songs in the car.
Thing is, being soggy Romantics isn’t just about the stuff or the standards. It’s about finding pleasure not only in those storybook moments of ecstatic bliss but especially in the ongoing and real kindnesses and shared tasks that fill up the everyday, because the everyday is such an insurmountable percentage of our lives, singly and together.
So there’s no question that one of the things I find most romantic in my partner is that he does have an appreciation for all kinds of beauty and learning and amusement and work, from nature’s resources to friends and family, from rambling around a run-down part of town to finding starlight in the arts that we share as both as passion and as vocation. It’s reassuring, after all, that there’s not some impossible measure of queenly perfection I myself am expected to meet but that he sees good in the ordinary me and values it as though it were something romantic.
All the same, it doesn’t hurt that he’s fed me filets, tirelessly supported my “Expensive Hobby” career of being an artist/writer, and he’s taken me to castles and cottages, forests and mountains, cities of great sophistication and incredible vividness and hidden hamlets with more shaggy livestock than human population, and to seas both of the stormy north and those surrounding tropical islands. It is, truthfully, pretty romantic to stand at the shore of the ocean with the best person in you whole life right by your side.
The most striking fact of our coming together as such a love-sodden twosome is that we were both quite content in our single lives and expected to live that way perpetually. I’m convinced that because we both liked who we were and how we lived our lives, had surrounded ourselves with a constellation of astonishing friends and loved ones, and had endless interesting things to do with our time and attentions, it was easier in reality to fall in love than if we’d been avidly hunting for something either of us felt too keenly that we lacked. And that is for me the romance in any part of life: that we don’t necessarily require it to make us whole or contented or excited or whatever-it-is; it’s a genuine, unexpected, unearned treasure. A gift, a bonus. The prize.
Art-Colored Glasses 
Unless and until we become secure in our own skin and happy to be there, real love will prove illusive. “Know thyself” is as true today as when Socrates first said it.
I will readily agree that Socrates was a very wise man in this. I have no desire to follow in his footsteps, least of all in his latter taste in cocktails, but he still has a lot to teach the thoughtful in this day and age.
Lucky girl…I’ll listen to you gush all you want!
There is nothing more wonderful in this world than a happy person.
Unless it’s TWO happy people, together…
Yep, an unbeatable kind of happiness. Here’s to more of every kind all over the place. Thanks for listening, dearest! 🙂
It works best when you both are in a good place before you share space. Better to do something because you want to and not have to or need to. So I guess this means I won’t be putting you into a sucralose coma telling you how DH and I came to be? hehehe
I looooooves me a good love story! Lay it on me! 😀
What a great tribute to the love you have for each other.
I think in many ways, the love we have for each other is a tribute to the love we’ve been given by so many others to put is in this place together.
Awwwwwwwww. 🙂 That’s really great. Have you found the blog called “romanceyourmate” yet? Doesn’t sound like you need it, but it’s got some great ideas.
No, I haven’t seen it before, but you can bet I’ll look it up now! Thanks, Dennis. 🙂
Sounds like you found your perfect match! Gush away!
Thank you, O lady-with-the-lovely-name. What a lucky one I am!
Well, now you’ve done it! I have to know how you two met! I love your views on “romance” and couldn’t agree more.. it’s the generosity of the simple every day touches that make such a difference:)
Ordinariness trumps the exotic any old day, when it comes to long-lasting love! More of this conversation to come 😀 .
This is the warm fuzzies. xoxo
I learned about love from a lot of family experts!!
My mother used to say that too, until you can Love yourself, you will not be able to Love another. I love that he cuts your hair!! that takes confidence. I mean i cut Johns but somehow that is different a) he is a bloke and b) I clip it to a number ONE! .. I don’t know.. I love your love story Kath! Miss Googly Eyes! c
Yeah: I used to cut Richard’s hair too, but first he switched from scissor trims to wanting a crew/buzz cut, then he kept telling me to use a shorter blade every time until I ran out of “shorter” and he started shaving his head (I really like it this way!!). Early on, he offered to cut *my* hair and I thought that was great that he’d try it, and we haven’t looked back. I get compliments on it all the time, *and* I get to sleep with my hairdresser! 😉
Sing it, sister! My husband came into my life at exactly the time I decided I was going to be single for the rest of my life. I was finally comfortable enough in my own skin, and had finally figured out how to look after myself, and was convinced that I didn’t need anyone to look after me. And I didn’t. But how wonderful that he came along to share the journey. And it is sort of awesome that he cuts my hair 🙂
O yes, O yes, O yes!! The best love finds us when we quit trying too hard to find it! 😀
You have reduced me to a mess of goo with this wonderful homage to your love. It is so pure. I was reading this at the church during my stinkin’ crabbiest point of this day and you gave me such a smile – my day started to lift right then. How can anyone stay crabby when confronted with you?!
Well, as you have just cheered *me* up immensely with such sweet-talk, I guess we make quite the dynamic duo, darling! Thank you for this!
I’m so happy you found your soul mate, Kathryn! It is truly a blessing and reading this made me smile and feel all mushy, which I am, anyway! Love it! xx
I guess you’ve noticed I’m seriously mushy too! And yes, having found that deepest connection of love only ‘worsens’ the condition!!! Ain’t it grand? 🙂
xoxo
I’m glad I’m not the only “mushy” one and yep, it’s definitely grand! xx 🙂