You know what I miss? Romance.
Not the cliched, sappy kind of store brought romance. Not a single stemmed red rose or stargazing on a rooftop with the one you love. Not long gone ideals of chivalry or love at first sight and unlikely connections and reunions and courtship rituals or any of that. Not romance in the way or relationships or love but love of little things, moments in life or words or songs or something. Something not concrete in the way that you’d expect things to be but concrete in its subtle beauty and tenderness. Romance in that if you play out a scene in your mind, a moment, a capsule, over and over, adding details, playing with the edges, blurring the background, replacing the time, the little things that don’t matter, in that scene that you learn to fall in love with, little by little. And then one day you wake up and you realize that you’re acting out the scene, there you are, alive and apart of the world you’d always imagined and dreamed of.
And maybe it’s a little rougher around the edges, the grass is not a perfect peaceful green but the concrete has cracks and gum and trash, and maybe the sky is cloudy and foggy and the weather is a bit too cold or hot and the perfect outfit you envisioned is really too casual or dirty or awkward for the occasion. Maybe the way it happens doesn’t have the grace and flow it happened in your mind, and those perfect sentences and thoughts you composed before hand comes out at the wrong moment and maybe the meaning’s even a bit mixed up. But eventually you get through it and you’re in the midst of it and you’re smiling and you realize, hey, it’s happening. It’s really really happening. And all of those imperfections cease to matter and become more beautiful than anything you’d ever imagined.
Romance in that a simple song can become a whole another world, transforming your steps and surroundings into something so much more precious. So that every where you glance is a snapshot and a perfect illustration to the story you’re writing with your words, your smile, your gestures.
Romance in that I want to go out and stroll a park and find magic on every blade of grass, the dirt, the tables, the trees and sunset. Romance in the idea of daydreaming and dreaming until everything finally appears in reality and overwhelms and then you are convinced, finally, that maybe life holds so much more than what it seemed to have to offer.