Romance

         The moment is forever captured in my memory. The moonlit parkway, the warm breeze that swept through the canopy of dark trees above us as we drove. The heady scent of a summer night, heavy with the smell of ozone after the afternoon showers. The night that was made for romance. Star filled skies, the anticipation of being together again. The fluttering inside of me,feeling giddy and nervous at being with him again.

         The intellectual conversation centered around Guatemalan Fruit Bats, with an occasional witticism from the Ren and Stimpy show. Our laughter over the lunacy of it all. He was my first, and now that I think on it, my only,true love. A love like no other I have ever had the privilege to know.

         Roses and candlelit dinners, moonlit walks along the beach, hand in hand. A sigh for the romantic notion of it. The romance of my moonlit drive came not from the words, but from the laughter. The way were in sync with one another. The way we just were. We were young, and for that all too brief drive, free.

         He did make me laugh. Laughter has always been special to me. Laughter did not make you remember to check your windswept hair, or your lipstick. Laughter did not care if you forgot to put on perfume, or that your flip flops really did look ridiculous with that skirt. Laughing left no room for worrying if you would ever see him again. Only look forward to seeing him again. Breathing him again.

         The laughter made me free, free to be myself. We were one and the same, yet I was more when I was with him. No pretense, nothing hidden. Without fear of judgment, or ridicule. When I was with him there was no other thought besides being where I was with him.
         We did such ridiculous things together. One afternoon's adventure found us in an abandoned shack that had clearly been used for pagan rituals. I recall us racing each other to the car, laughing hysterically in horror. Another time we sat in front of the television and watched cartoons all day.

         I was not sixteen, I was twenty. A young woman happy to be in love with love. Romantic frivolity was not needed. I did not need him to woo me with flowers, or trinkets. All I needed he gave freely, and I was able to return the gift. I gave him freedom. Freedom was needed. There is no romance without it.

         Romance is about being free. Flowers and candy are gestures of romance, however true romance lies in the freedom of being who you are at all times. Not just within intimate moments. But every time. Especially during the silly times. It is during the bouts of laughter over ridiculous cartoons and nonsense thoughts.

         It is about being in the moment. Time moves without ceasing. Being in the moment ensures your ability to grasp the unfairness of the good nights that never seem to last. And to be able to let go of the bad nights that take forever.

         It is remembering the moments of years that have passed as though they were yesterday, wrapped around you like a warm blanket. You sit, your thoughts dreamily drifting along the edges of a memory. As the thought grasps hold of a memory from a dream, you smile. And if you're lucky, you laugh.

         I have never been able to remember him on a serious level. There are no romantic gestures that I am ever able to recall in my memories of him. There is no special song to sing to, no dried flower to gaze upon. I have no picture to moon over.

         All I have of him are memories of moments when we were overcome by fits of laughter. I smile each time I think of his laugh. I forget the way it felt when his hand touched mine, or the way he kissed me. I fondly recall the way he would tilt back his head and just let go of himself in laughter. His laugh was heady, intoxicating. And his bright blue eyes would sparkle with pleasure if I was able to outwit him. There was always laughter when we were together. Romancing the Giggles. Our saga in a never-ending romance.

         Through the years of falling in and out of love, and sharing years of my life with another, I found that it was not easy to completely be myself. It was difficult to feel free sometimes. Bad moods, bad days at work.
But a smile, accompanied by a laugh at whatever you are able to share ensures that the romance in your life never completely goes away.

         Freedom and romance may go hand in hand, but neither is easy. And you cannot have one without the other.

         Romance is work, pleasurable work that is well worth the effort. The only compensation needed is a smile to share after a long day.

         The roses that were tenderly wrapped at the corner flower stall that brought the sunny smile to your face will fade. The candlelight flickering across the darkened bedroom goes out. The dinners, painstakingly prepared may burn, or remain uneaten. The silver bracelet unwrapped with eagerness at your birthday party may tarnish. A romance tearfully ended.

         Some nights will be dark and dreary. The sun may refuse to shine on some days. But during the days and nights that make you feel like the rising sun, and you feel alive, be free to be you. Be free to pick a buttercup and hold it under his chin. Swing as high as you can at the nearest playground, surrounded by children on a Sunday afternoon, or in the silence of a full moon. Discuss memories, and feelings. Or watch Looney Tunes until you've learned the proper way to drop an anvil.

         Romance is not being childish, it is being free to embrace yourself and live in the moment. All too soon the moments end. And "real life" comes sweeping back into your day. But while you are being romanced, lean into it, hug the tight corners as you barrel along at full throttle. Don't just love the idea of being in love. Live being in love.