Don't Judge...

I believe in romance.
I believe in romance and magic and dreams and dreamers and possibilities and the wonder of the way your heart feels and your head reels when you know you’re with the person you’re most meant to be with.

There.
I said it.

Yes, I’m painfully well aware of the fact that this goes against the grain of the way I’m generally perceived – an illusion I’ve cultivated since the first time I let romance ruin me. Nonetheless, I still believe. I have only one question…

Where are the Grand Gestures? Those beautifully executed crescendos that are the stuff old movies are made of? It’s not naïve or childish to believe these still exist. I know they do. I remember them. And not from movies, but from a very real time earlier in my life. Admittedly, when we’re somewhat less experienced in love, it’s easier to interpret even the smallest gesture as something more grand than intended. Still though, I remember. And from memory comes the desire to recapture that giddy wonder and excitement of being fully in a moment of romance.

We’re never more aware of ourselves than when someone else is willingly involved in us – in our moment. I suppose the key here is in the “willingly” part - the willingness to create a moment of romance. The Grand Gesture isn’t expensive nor is it pedestrian. The romance comes from the idea and the planning. It is not romantic if someone else has to tell you how to do it! Grand doesn’t necessarily mean large in this instance. It refers only to the underlying depth of importance.

Now, I’m not saying that huge and public and over-the-top doesn’t constitute the Grand Gesture. I’m only saying that doesn’t make it one, and it’s just not a prerequisite to one. Romance isn’t dead. I refuse to believe that there isn’t still breath and a heartbeat.

I think maybe I’ll go looking for it. You comin'?