Flowers, chocolate, edible body paint (I always thought this was a phase people went through in their early 20's and then moved past once realising it's not all that...apparently not) all form part of a new romance. But now that I am a man of some years' marriage, what constitutes romance is something quite different.
The fact that whoever gets up first makes tea for both, is right up there in the romantic stakes. I would take that over a love letter (or worse, a poem) any day.
Myself and Mrs Van are both off work at the moment (don't worry, at least one of the people on this blog actually work...that would be AnnaK yet to grace us with her wit: fund my pension, biartch!) so we are spending a lot of time together. We had our kitchen refurbed too and so that meant the house was a mess, we were eating dinner in the bedroom and cooking it in the living room etc. Tempers frayed. The cabin fever kicked in (being of ethnic origin, it is my genetic disposition to watch workmen in my house like a hawk, thus not really leaving the house except for short periods at a time).
I thought some old-style swooning romantic gesture might break the domestic hell. A dinner at one of Gordon Ramsay's Restaurants was booked (we had a gift voucher to use up there, I would never choose it myself, even before the minimal cost vacuum-sealed food parcel story came out).
So we hike to the West End, the three of us (there's a baby on the scene btw), and then sat to eat the usual style of dinner at these places (big plate, tiny serve; mandatory stop for fast food on way home). And though the setting was right, the candles were lit, and we were reasonably dressed, it didn't flick any switches for us.
What became apparent is that as you grow even more intimate as you fall in love, you reach a level of connection where things like expensive dinners, flowers, chocolate etc are almost on the periphery of the bond shared between the two of you. Sure they break up the pattern of life every now and again but as we rode home, we both concluded that we could have stayed at home in our normal clothes, in our normal mode, taking the piss out of crap tv as we often do, or watching not-meant-to-be-hilarious-but-they-are videos on youtube, and that would have been bliss.
I did get the cab to pull over as I ran out and grabbed some fast food since we were both starving- and I knew exactly what Mrs Van wanted without even asking. I could tell she was impressed when I got back in the cab...Gaga-Ooh-la-la.
Ah! So romance isn't dead.
ReplyDeleteI've just returned home from a meal with the rock god myself. Not half as romantic as yours, I was highlighting the fact that if I was single I could run away to Thailand right now.
Needless to say - we didn't hang around for pudding!
This is interesting. Even when was I was in a relationship (lordy, when was that?) I never thought of a candlelit dinner in a restaurant as romantic - an experience yes, romantic no. I get the cups of tea bit, but the love letter - yes, that really ticks my box. I can't think of anything more romantic when you're in a long-term (or in my case any kind of term!) relationship than receiving a hand written note from the the person you care most about with him or her telling you their thoughts and feelings and how much they love you. In this heady world we live in, when no-one really puts pen to paper anymore - think about it, when was the last time you wrote something more than a postcard or greetings card of whichever variety? - taking the time the sit down and write a love letter..... yep, that's romantic!
ReplyDeleteThis has really got me thinking. Maybe my view is different because I'm not in a relationship and have forgotten (conveniently) what it's like, but I went searching to see what others think romance involves - according to some academic (!) in The Telegraph (2009), "women really want their men to write them poems and run them baths". Not a candlelit dinner to be seen! I rest my case! Over and out.
AnnaK xx