Ok, so I've been single for just over a year now, and before that I was in some not so awesome relationships, but who hasn't been there. Since then I have been on various dating sites, resulting in all kinds of ridiculous dates, getting some of the strangest emails from people, and in some instances, have been completely horrified by some of the profiles out there. I am actually attempting to get all of my stories, theories, rants, whatever you want to call them, together, and write a book. There are some pretty shitty books out there that have been published, so I figure I got a shot.
On countless profiles I have seen men claim that romance is not dead, and they go right by their women, and treat them like princesses and blah blah blah *Puke*.I don't know how or when or why this happened but for some reason, so many men out there think they are Gods gift to the planet just because they held open a door for a girl, and paid for their $4 dollar beer on the first date. That's nice and everything, but I don't think when a couple that has been happily married for 50+ years is asked how it all started, their answer was "Well, he paid for my beer that one time".... That would be a really very sad story in my personal opinion.
I blame this all entirely on my mother of course, but I am a complete romantic at heart. I don't know why because in all the time that I have been around, I have never really gotten to witness many truly romantic stories. With the exception of my mother, I don't know many other people besides myself that live in a world of romance and hope and grand gestures. But of course all this occurs in my head, on the pages of a book, or on a movie screen, because despite what those profiles claim, romance is dying.
And what happened to it anyway? The love notes, the flowers, talking in a car all night in the middle of a rain storm, or for that matter, just flat out being nice to one another.
There are so many romantic comedies, and romance novels that depict these things in great detail, but its all us women seeing them or reading them. Why? Because there is something tragically missing from our lives. I am all for being a strong independent woman and doing things for myself. Hell, I think it would be fantastic if I could be the breadwinner, and my someday husband cares for my someday children. Hows that for modernity? But that doesn't mean that we sacrifice the romance. And I also want to point out that I think this is a very two way street, so this is not entirely hating on men. I have completed countless small gestures, crafts, baking, you name it, in the desperate hope that the guy will get the hint and return the favor.
Maybe my problem is I hope that I can teach them when we are way too far into the game, or I got to them when they have already been ruined and turned cynical by some other crazy woman.
In any case, as I go through the roller coaster of being convinced I am going to die alone, in the auntie brigade forever, to being blindly and completely in lust for someone, I still cling desperately to the hope that there is a shred of romance out there. I believe it because I've felt the spark. That "holy crap, how have I been living with out this person in my life for so long" butterflies driving to their house, weak knees at a phone call, breath completely taken away by a kiss, feeling. The ending to that story doesn't really matter, as someone once told me "it was the right feeling with the wrong person". The point is that I've felt it. I've been in a world seen through those rose colored glasses and I fully believe I can have it again. It was short lived, and I got really hurt in the end, but I got some of the kind of romance people write about. So maybe I am not stuck in the wrong time period because I have felt it and I know with out a doubt it will happen again.
But until then I have to muddle through emails like this one:
"Hey baby, do you work at hooters? I really love the wings there, maybe you could bring some over and then we'd really have something going" True story, hows that for a romantic gesture.