Sunday, December 29, 2013

not for the books

While I had no problem with a friend of mine crowing over how romantic and wonderful her boyfriend is, I kinda wanted to punch her in the nose when she took it one step further and made disparaging comments upon hearing that SB regularly forgets my birthday. "What are you doing with him?" she had the nerve to demand. While I am annoyed at his forgetfulness, there are 364 other days in the year that are made more enjoyable because he is part of them. I don't understand people who measure the success of their relationships by grand gestures only. Maybe they read too many romance novels.

What I know is that every morning when I leave for work, I kiss him goodbye even though he is sleeping and won't remember. I do this because it makes me happy, because I adore him right down to his overlarge, Sasquatchy feet which I often tuck back under the duvet right before I kiss him. It is the best part of my day until I come home to see him in the evening.

SB will probably never feature in a romance novel despite being the rugged, manly man type that these novels like to feature. This is because unlike the schizophrenic romance men, SB won't suddenly fall on his knees and make a weepy declaration of love in front of all of the bitches who were mean to me in high school. Unless he suddenly suffers a stroke. Rugged men don't do that crap.

That doesn't mean that SB isn't romantic. He likes gardening and presents me with lovely, flowering plants. He shows me how much he loves and treasures me in other ways that sure beat public declarations and expensive, designer gifts (not that there's anything wrong with it if you like that sort of thing). This Christmas he bought me a ski jacket. Never mind that I can't ski and don't particularly like to be cold. The point was that he loves skiing and wanted to share the thing he loves with me. Many years ago I knew that he loved me because he dragged me on a long, miserable march up a mountain and at the top, he took my frozen, blue hand in his and told me that when he was younger, he thought that the wintertime mountaintop was one of the most beautiful sights that he had ever seen. I blinked back frozen tears of joy and sniffled with my cold, red nose at his thoughtfulness in taking me to the most beautiful sight.

Anyway, I once heard my friend yelling over the phone at her romance hero boyfriend because he hadn't given her flowers when she returned from a business trip. Sounds like Prince Charming ended up with the stepsister, I thought snarkily. Me, I prefer my hero to have a bit more backbone.

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