I am a self-proclaimed hopeless romantic. I read chick-lit, pine for cuties in coffee shops, and wish I lived in a time where everyone knew how to ballroom dance (not to say that I can waltz, but it would be ten steps up from how I bust a move now). What I lack in fancy footwork, I make up for in chick-flick knowledge. Yes, I’ve watched The Notebook about a billion times. No, I haven’t re-enacted the classic lie-on-the-road-at-midnight scene. As caught up as I am in the wispy romance of it all, I’m still pretty oblivious to sexual innuendos. I mean, who knew “Netflix and chill” was more than a slammin’ good movie marathon?
It’s a weird kind of optimism, especially in this day and age, but there’s a method to all the madness. There’s so much hope placed into something that has yet to come to fruition, and this almost makes the whole idea a little entrancing. Like the best moments of your life haven’t happened yet and you still have a chance to watch the magic unfold.
What ever happened to the guys who sent flowers, or the ones who opened the passenger door for you before climbing into the car? Where have the love letters and the late night drives to nowhere gone? I’m telling you, they’re out there. They just need to be found.
What happened to the evenings cuddled up with nothing but each other’s company? Leave the hustle and bustle alone for a little while. Move past the movie nights and the restaurant dinners, and head to the park instead. Pack a picnic, wicker basket and all. Make finger sandwiches and grab the checkered blanket. People get to know each other better this way; it’s more human, it’s more natural. It’s more real. And stay out at dusk. Look for the first stars together. Share things that are easier said under the shade of night.
What about the good morning texts and the good night calls? The idea that love beats distances and that someone is gutsy enough to let you know that you’re on their mind. It sure beats “Heys” and “What’s up’s” that go nowhere. Wait to give rise to something more enchanting.
Too many people settle for something short of what they deserve. I admit that it’s a scary idea, to go after something we want more than anything. It’s even scarier to go after it again, and again. Over the years, maybe you have lost love, maybe your heart has been broken, or maybe you are simply not a believer in outlandish fantasies. I know that those things happen; of course they do. I’m not completely naïve.
What I can tell you is this: It is much better to have loved and lost, than not to have loved at all. A sliver of happiness is better than a lifetime in the dark and we’re too young to be disbelievers. We’re too young to settle for sparks.
So find someone who makes your heart race every time your palms touch, and who has their phone on at 2 AM in case you need them. Look for someone who knows all of your favorite songs, and who visits you when you’re sick. If no one seems to fit, then wait. Wait for the fireworks.
Maybe my standards are too high, maybe I’m waiting on some unattainable ideal, or maybe I’m just a bit old-fashioned. Whatever it is, I think hopeless romantics have it good; we’ve got unfailing optimism and the promise of love of our side. And if that’s what life has in store, then I’m all for it.
Featured Image via Tord Sollie.