Wednesday Ramblings – Hopeless Romantic
I’ve always been a romantic. I was the 11 year old sitting in a tree in my back yard reading Romeo & Juliet and understanding that love didn’t have to make sense to anyone else, just the two who felt it. And since I will always love reading Romeo & Juliet and this post isn’t to debate that story, we will quickly move on.
I was the girl who thought love was hearts, flowers, courtship, you know everything books hype it up to be. 18 years together has taught me a little about my hopeless nature and the true meaning of love and romance.
As a writer we often wax poetic about love but I strive to show the details that are often hidden in relationships. The stuff no one else sees. After a long time in the company of another person a sort of secret language develops, and a secret world is formed.
Love becomes not the flowers, cards, and gifts of youth, but the late nights, heartbreaks, and struggles of real adult life. It’s forgetting the anniversary of the day you met until 2 days later and laughing about it instead of yelling that neither of you did anything special to celebrate 18 years. It is realizing that the fact you’ve stayed together 18 years is special.
It’s making light of health struggles in a way that brings a smile- when someone says they feel like jello and the discussion becomes about the evil lime. It’s knowing that if you say sorry for something there won’t be more fighting, but an understanding that we are both human and learning to grow.
It’s over coming the past. It’s knowing how to get passed the hurt that someone (or many someone) else caused and growing from it. It’s excitement for the home you are building together.
True love doesn’t just happen. That is the biggest lesson I’ve learned. In the time I’ve been in love with my husband I haven’t always liked him. In that time I’ve loved others. I’ve looked away and always come right back. It took work to continue to get through the days and nights with the same person, when something shiny and new seems a better option. It’s knowing that at the end of our days when we lay our heads down the last time they will put us in the ground right next to each other.
Knowing something that certain in a world so full of uncertainty is why I am still a hopeless romantic. The fancy florist flowers fade but the garden still grows. The shiny gifts tarnish but hold more value for the wear. The new romance smell doesn’t linger but the scent of together never fades.
When the love of your life becomes your everything there are many who throw stones. Words like co-dependent, clingy, needy, sheep, traditionalists, are thrown around. There is nothing wrong with trusting your care to someone else. There is something to be said for traditions, no matter how unconventional they look. There is a blessing in sleeping next to someone and needing the scent of their shampoo as you drift off.
I will never lose the spirit of that girl in the tree looking for her Romeo. I will always need the romance. But the romance isn’t just the pretty package tied in a bow. True romance is messy, dirty, and just a little bit odd. It’s the best romance there is!