what is romance?

can romance fade, as color on old photographs; leaving behind a dull semblance of something once so vibrant?

can romance be lost, as one misplaces a set of keys, not remembering where they are or which drawers they open; forsaken with nobody bothering to recover them anymore?

or does romance come and go as a summer breeze, with lovers rustling pleasantly while it lasts; yet withering eventually, come the penetrating chill of subsequent autumn?

the pervading sense of the usual- passion, perhaps mistaken for romance, overwhelms at the start and underwhelms with passing time. romance is declared dead- post mortem reveals that it was perhaps never there at all; was it all imagined?

let me offer my humble take. romance is choosing that one person, day after day, year after year, misplaced item after misplaced item, standing toilet seat after standing toilet seat, mistake after mistake, simply because.

simply because she is special; she is yours.simply because he has always been there for you; where else would he go? simply because the two of you made a binding agreement, and breaking it will never cross your mind.

now tell me, isn't that romantic?

romance doesn't die as long as something illogical remains about the relationship. why does that smile make you so happy, in a different way from other smiles? how did that particular hand come to hold your very heart, soothing it with gentle strokes, hurting it with careless squeezes? why is that hard, edgy shoulder so nice to nuzzle, or to lean on to cry?

romance can be found, if we look at the right places. in the quiet of the night, tucked in that warm hand that lies unclenched. or somewhere in the bloom of the single rose stalk on the kitchen table, perhaps with three little words scrawled on the little attached note. or impressed on that 3 by 5 in the wallet that is starting to crease. oh, the romantic soul, it can be forgotten, but never can it disappear. time transforms it to be richer, deeper; romance thrives when it is allowed to take the spotlight.

constantly remind yourselves of why you love. romance doesn't need to be contrived- there already exists a never ending flow of plastic, assembled products pushed into our lives to fulfill manufactured wants and imaginary needs. romance was never about what we didn't have; draw from what has been. gently scoop it up, savor it, let it refresh. take what you need- there will always be more.


my romance, i await for you to come home, and light me up.









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