I used to be a romantic. Singing love songs. Home-cooking meals. Memorizing anniversaries. Remembering small details. I used to love making people feel special. It was important to me that people felt loved and cared for. In a cold, unyielding world; I wanted my friends and family to have space for fantasies and fairy tales. This personal philosophy is past tense.
I am now very careful about whom I romantic with. Everyone doesn't get flowers. Few people get exotic desserts. Due to the fact that romance can become an opiate. 'Feeling special' is habit forming. Warm and fuzzy feelings are both fleeting and addictive, hence, being the administrator of said feelings can be an exhausting task.
Furthermore, I have learned that including and then extracting romance, or anything that could be considered romantic, from a relationship can turn people into monsters. The love songs become a lullaby to keep the beast asleep. The meals become distractions to keep the glutton satisfied. All the information stored in you mind becomes a map, guiding you around the land mines. Romance can become a marathon performance.
There are a few people in my life whom I'll allow myself to be romantic. They are worthy of me belting out the ballads. They are worthy of four-course meals. They are worthy because they are very understanding if I forget some times. Also, they aren't dependent on me to establish their self worth, making my love less urgent. I need this.
I think its a shame that I can't bear gifts and express appreciation without getting tangled in the politics of the heart. I have to be cautious to avoid someone going ape shit. Dividing. Rationing. Diluting. Forming a strategy for my passion and pleasure give me a fucking headache. But a necessary headache.
|'My Bloody Valentines' by Pawel Denkowicz|