Passionate Minutiae

Disclaimer: Oh, a deep post.  Probably about time for another one.  Meant to just add a caption, but oh well. Seriously nothing prompted this but this picture. 

I have come to the realization that I am not someone who falls easily in and out of love. Not like, or lust.  LOVE.  Growing up, I thought I would be.  I believed in the fairy tale, the happily ever after, the amazing soulmateness of it all.  I think this was fueled by many things: my optimism, my books, my love of musicals (Everything Is Better With A Song) and my parents’ relationship.  The crazy part: they don’t believe in the fairy tales.  When my mom realized my crazy expectations, she worked on bringing me back to reality.

Anyway, I think about it, and I look around, and I know a lot of people who fall in and out of love.  Maybe not easily - but it happens frequently.  I don’t seem to do that.  Sure, I’ve been burned or whatever.  Maybe I’m just gunshy. 

I honestly don’t know.  I don’t have some stunning realization here. Here is what I know to be true:  I found my first love when I wasn’t looking, stumbled across it blindly and fell - hard.  It was wonderful, and fantastic, and the first part was a fairy tale - and I’ve got a box full of love letters to remember it.  So I’m thankful for that, regardless of the negative stuff that followed (fighting, addictions, divorce, etc). 

This next time, I’m looking forward to different things - the quiet moments, the routine, the trips, the handholding at the movies.  Oddly less of the grand gestures and more of life.  The AFTER in the Happily Ever After. 

wordpowerrr: Photo by lauren.