Romance on Stealth Mode
Yes, the rose, perfume, candlelight, wine and diamond. Every lovely ladies vision of romance. Then comes the trip down the isle, white the standard issue white dress and 7 brides maids and ring bearer and flower girl. This must be romance. No its the single family home with 2.1 children and a dog, the white picket fence.
No I say. All of the things above are routine events in life, and fluff that is added to make it more beautiful. Romance though. It is a different beast entirely. This is what romance is for me.
I wake in the morning and can barely move. My body is wracked with fibromyalgia pain. I can’t roll out of bed and my eyes can barely squint open. Suddenly I hear my man say, “coffee is ready” and I hear my cup being placed on my night stand. My heart is melting. It is the only part of my body that can move and isn’t in pain. A moment later he is bringing me my bathrobe, because he knows I will be cold. That is romance. He can see into me. That is intimacy. IN To ME SEE. Intimacy. Intimacy leads to romance. It is the first big step.
The week goes on and it is a few days before my birthday. My daughter and my man have been sneaking out in the evenings and secret shopping. On Saturday they drag me out of the house, excitedly telling me that they have something to show me. They have been worried about me sharing a car with my daughter, and have gone out and narrowed it down to 3 cars they know I would like and they let me choose. That is romance.
My dog that I have raise from a puppy has been sick for weeks now. He is the cutest little dachshund you can imagine. 13 yrs old. He has been slowly dying before our eyes for a few weeks now. With the help of our vet we have been trying to fight his infection and keep him comfortable. The Little guy is just losing too much weight. He is wasting away. It seems that we are going to have to put him to sleep. I have been crying off and on all day. My man came up behind me and wrapped his arms around me with out a word. A little while later I watched as he lay on the floor cuddling with my dog gently talking to him. That is romance. All those moments that your heart takes a picture, and you never want to forget. Whether the memory is happy or sad. That is romance. Not the fancy, mass marketed, purchasable kind. But the kind that lasts and carries you through the years.
