My husband says that I'm not romantic. I don't make grand gestures with rose petal strewn beds and silk negligees (for me, not him). When he asks what romance is to me, I have to admit that I'm a tad stumped. I think that we've come to connect romance with events such as Valentine's Day (when supposedly you should be especially 'romantic') and cliches such as chocolates, flowers and dinner dates. However nice that might be, it all seems a little shallow.
Romance has always seemed to me to be the icing on the cake of something that goes much deeper, an enduring connection that sees past the fripperies of presents and passion. If you push me to identify my kind of romance then I'd have to say that I find romance in seeing your partner for who they really are, through good times and bad, and loving them not despite all of that but because of it. I find romance in choosing to stay on the same path for a lifetime, with all the negotiations and consideration for each other that that takes. I see romance in the elderly couple who still hold hands after decades together and compliment each other on a morning.
I don't read romance novels, however well written they are, but over the years I've come across a number of literary connections that speak to me of my kind of romance.
- The connection between Gabriel Oak and Bathsheba Everdene in Thomas Hardy's 'Far from the Madding Crowd' is one that grows through friendship to a deeper understanding of what love really is.
- Audrey Niffenegger's 'The Time Traveller's Wife' describes not only Henry DeTamble's struggle to live with his uncontrollable time travelling but the growing love between him and his wife Clare, from the moment they met when she was a child to their final parting.
- Titania and Oberon in A Midsummer Nights Dream plays tricks on each other and throw unkind words but in the end, it is to each other that they will always return.
Have a wonderful weekend, however and with whomever you spend it.
Ed Sheeran - Thinking Out Loud