Fast forward 3 hrs and you’d find me in my pajamas lying in bed beside my husband idly running my hand through his hair while listening to Frank Sinatra croon IT HAD TO BE YOU and reading a few chapters of a good book. I’m filled with a warm contented feeling and all is right in my world. That’s when I had my little epiphany. THIS IS TRUE ROMANCE. The little everyday wonderful moments. True romance isn’t champagne or gifts or compliments. True romance is snuggling every morning for an extra 10 minutes just because we like being together. It’s kisses on the back of my neck when I’m in pain and running to the store for me at 3 am to buy medicine and a chocolate scented teddy bear. Don’t get me wrong, I love beautiful flowers and lovely compliments as much as the next girl but if I have to chose I wouldn’t exchange a cozy evening curled up beside my husband watching our favorite shows for all the chocolate and roses in the world.
Friday, February 15, 2008
t’s 9pm and I’m about to crawl under the covers and snuggle up with my already sleeping husband but I wanted to record a little epiphany that I experienced this evening. I have to admit that I was feeling a tiny bit down earlier. The hubby and I were sitting in a restaurant, both kind of tired and not particularly talkative, and all around us were laughing groups and happy couples out on the town to celebrate Valentine’s day. The couple across the isle from us were cuddling in front of the gorgeous fireplace, bathed in dancing firelight, as they drank white wine,gazed deeply into eachother’s eyes and kissed passionately between each course of the meal. I started feeling down because WE weren’t kissing eachother’s fingertips and whispering sweet nothings in eachother’s ears. I completely got caught up in the superficial aspects of Valentine’s day and I let it affect my mood. I started feeling a bit sorry for myself. I wanted that storybook romantic Valentine’s Day with hearts, flowers, chocolate and greeting card sentimentality. All the superficial trappings we’ve been raised to believe are what romance is all about. Poor pitiful Me, cue the sad violins.