[size=20pt]Finding romance in what is—and what isn’t Isn’t It Romantic?[/size]
by Camerin Courtney

Finding romance in what is—and what isn’t
February 3, 2009 |

I’m in my kitchen trying to ignore the dark chocolate Toblerone bar calling my name when I hear it. A jazz trio. I listen closely for a moment to try to figure out where it’s coming from. My neighbor on that side of my apartment had been playing Sinatra earlier, so I suspect him—but no. This is live—and, I finally realize, coming from one of the restaurants across the alley.

I open the back door to the deck that wraps around our apartment building and listen briefly to the jazzy tune. As I refill my water glass, the reason for my kitchen trip, I suddenly blurt out, “God, how awesome would it be to have a man to pop out on my deck and enjoy this little moment with?”

I’m surprised by my outburst. Even though I’m a 30something never-married single woman, I wouldn’t classify myself as a hopeless romantic. But I can picture the moment just the same—sitting on my plastic deck chairs silently savoring the impromptu concert. Or even getting up and slow dancing just a bit. Sharing our own little movie moment. I let a dreamy sigh escape from my lips before returning to Spanglish, my rented Saturday night entertainment.

Forty-five minutes later I’m back in the kitchen for a snack. The music remains, and this time I can’t resist its lure. I grab a sweatshirt and my Sketchers, making me a mis-matched wonder. Before heading outside, I forage in my fridge for anything at all matching the moment, and find a half-empty bottle of sparkling grape. I’m amazed to find that by some freak of nature, it’s still fizzy. I pour some into one of my “fancy glasses” and head outside.

It’s one of those rare warm days in the middle of a long winter where there’s almost an electricity in the air. I peek down over the ledge of my third-floor apartment to figure out which restaurant is sporting the great music, and silently hope my party-animal neighbors are out for the night and don’t find me lurking in the dark alone dressed in a crazy get-up at 10:30 on a Saturday night. I giggle at the thought of getting “caught” at this, and then settle into one of my plastic chairs just as a saxophone solo starts.

I sip and smile and feel an odd mixture of joy and … melancholy. Melancholy because it’s a beautiful Saturday and I spent the day alone cleaning my apartment and doing laundry. Melancholy because I had a Me Night last night, too. Melancholy because I let a couple of romantic possibilities slip through my fingers lately. It was the right thing to do in both cases, but doing the right thing has led me here—in the dark on my deck sipping miraculously still-sparkly grape juice and listening to dreamy music on a Saturday night … alone.

While I’m not a hopeless romantic, I do recognize our need for romance in our lives. For feeling special and savored and tingly every now and then. And for the life of me I don’t know how to get that without a romantic prospect in my life. For some reason, tonight I’m feeling that lack. Something in the warm night air, the dreamy music, the sneaky peek I have of it all from my third-floor perch calls for romance. And I can’t answer.

For a moment I let myself enjoy the exquisite ache, knowing full well that sometimes the anticipation and longing for something are better than the actual acquiring or fulfilling. Today the ache is what I have, so the ache I enjoy.

I think of my friend Jan, who used to mentally decorate her imaginary house. When we were at a flea market years ago and I was admiring a chair I wouldn’t be able to afford for years, if ever, she told me what she did in such moments: pick out all the lovely things she admired but couldn’t afford at the time and mentally place them in the appropriate room of her imaginary house. Knowing Jan and her good taste, I just knew it was a lovely place. And that day, I started filling my own “home in my head.”

In that spirit, I close my eyes and picture this moment in my mental married life. Ever so briefly I allow my mind to go there, to see us dancing that slow dance, to see him noticing my shivers when a cool breeze bursts down the alley and warming me with an embrace.

Now, I’m not naïve enough to think that if I was married or if I was seriously seeing someone that things would be any different. He might hate to dance or say it’s too cold or weird. I know some married women could be out here alone, too, wishing for a spouse who’s more romantic or attentive or spontaneous.

And maybe that’s the point—being able to enjoy life’s occasional romantic moments as is, no matter what. To allow that brief moment of wishing for what isn’t, and then choosing to savor and be thankful for what is.

Tonight what is is a surprise backdoor concert with a clear blue-black sky, the happy noises of restaurant chatter and clinking glasses, a fun fizzy drink, the clickety-clack of the nearby commuter train, a wonderfully quaint neighborhood to call home, a lofty perch from which to take it all in.

What does romance look like in your life? http://blog.todayschristianwoman.com/editors/2009/02/isnt_it_romantic.html

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Comments

Camerin, funny how your post today mirrored my thoughts today. And I'm married! My hubbie and I have been crashing through life lately, and our times together haven't really been "together" - I'm craving romance today. Wanting to feel special to someone. So I told my hubbie. He emailed me back and said, "Let's watch 'House' together tonight. Nothing fancy, but at least it's a start. So, I know you know, but even married people crave what you do. You're a great writer.

Posted by: Lucille Zimmerman on February 3, 2009

Sigh!!!
It's going to be a lonely Valentines Day for me this year (unless something happens in the next week). Actually I generally avoid Valentines Day because there's never been anyone. I'm thinking about my singleness more this week because I'm about to have my 27th birthday. I know your in your 30's but this is big for me right now.
The extent of romance in my life as a vicarious association via romance novels, chick flicks and watching the lives of those around me.
I currently live with my parents, and although I am glad they demonstrate love to each other, I often wish they wouldn't do so in front of me.
Thanks for your insights, Camerin. They have been and are very helpful.

Posted by: Beth on February 3, 2009

A fav song, a chick-flick, a long drive home alone can sparkle a thingling longing to have someone to love, to hug, to laugh with in life. Yes, too much ME time can be overwhelming, I agree.

maybe this longing has a surprise at its end, and all dreams are no longer imaginery. And that's when we truely cherish its presence in our life.

Thanks for this light & refreshing post, I can feel my soul resonating with yours as I read it!

Posted by: Libby on February 4, 2009

Well stated. Well lived. Great honesty and applicable lesson. THANK YOU! And yes, as already stated, married women can relate--even after they've been married nearly 40 years!

ROSES ARE RED
VIOLETS ARE BLUE
I'M HAPPY THIS POST
WAS RENDERED BY YOU! xo

HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY.

Posted by: Charlene Ann Baumbich on February 4, 2009

Sometime I would get that desire to have a romantic moment and wonder 'why not me'. Because I was single, why did all the couples get flowers and go on dates to nice restaurants. Despite being single, I wanted those things too. Then it dawned on me, why not me? Just because I didn't have a boyfriend? God sees me as a beautiful bride, a princess. So at those times, I'd pick (or buy) myself a few flowers, cook a nicer dinner, light a few candles and have a nice dinner with Jesus. Knowing that He is always there, I can converse with Him and eat with Him. It always reminded me that He loves who I am and who He's made me to be. That someday if it was His will, He would bring a special person into my life. Years later, He has, but I still look back with fondness at those dates with Jesus.

Posted by: anonymous on February 4, 2009

I really enjoyed reading this piece. It is so true that you can have a romantic moment by yourself, or with Jesus. I know the wanting, the desire to have someone to fill that empty space. I've been alone for 5 years and recently started dating someone. This will be the 1st Valentine I will actually be with someone in a long time. hopefully it is romantic, but with the Lords blessing I dont have to worry about it!

Posted by: Leanda on February 5, 2009