It is easy to say you love someone. I love you. So simple. At the beginning, we all dreamily utter these three little words, imagining our own better version of a fairy tale ending. It comes so naturally to us then. But what happens after the fuzzy feeling in our heart fades and the stars in our eyes lose their lustre? What happens after the “happily ever-after”?
What happens is that romance, which has a ridiculously short life span, exits and therein comes reality. Don’t get me wrong. I love romance and #fairytales. I still swoon when the tragically expired #Gerard Butler romances his wife in PS: I love you. Yes, I sigh longingly for that buoyant, tingling sensation. The truth is that romance is wonderful but it has to be created. It is moody. It is situational. It is limiting. It is not and cannot be an everyday routine. But love is. And if you look closely, romance is a subset of #love.
If you choose to, you can find romance in the effort your partner exerts to do a simple chore for you, everyday. He cooks a meal for you and dries the clothes for you because you are overwhelmed with work. He lets you snap away at some petty issue in silence because he does not want to upset you further by pointing out the obvious. She runs your bank errands. She searches for your misplaced document at some God-forsaken hour so you can sleep in peace. She stays quiet when you are mentally occupied, even though she is dying to ask what, who, where, how. Aren’t these proofs of love? But no, we all want the flowers and the candles and a delectable meal and a sexy dress and three little words to remind ourselves that we love. Again, I’ll say I love the #fairy-tale kind of romance. But what could be more definitively romantic than these daily reminders of love?