Irrational Thing Called Love

It's that time of year where everyone goes above and beyond to let their loved ones know that they care.  For us single folk, it can mean one of two things.

We wander down memory lane and think of lovers past and wonder why on earth we walked away

-or-

We reach out to those friends and various other loved ones and let them know how much we care.

Today I did a little of both.

And yes, I am still single.  That little known fact hasn't changed and it feels as though it won't change anytime soon.  Mostly because I'm not ready.

My mind wandered to two Valentine's Days past specifically.  One right after Tegan was born, and I went out for the first time.  My boyfriend treated me like a lady and showed me off, even though I felt fat and like I just had a baby.... Because I really did just have a baby.  He gave me flowers and spent time with me and that was all I wanted in the entire world.  I don't have a picture of Tegan without him from that day.

Another Valentine's Day was from my pre-Florida years.  When I was still young and everything was irrational and over the top.  Simple gestures were not overseen as someone trying to get attention.  They were real and legit, and it was the first time I had experienced any of these things.  The feelings were so intense and I was so passionate about loving this person and everything about them.  I loved them unconditionally.

We spent the night peeling and cooking shrimp for our homemade shrimp Fettichini Alfredo - very romantic, I know.  In reality, we bought the raw shrimp with shells on because it was cheaper.  That part of the night felt like a disaster at the time, but it is one of my fondest memories of this person.  Cooking together in the kitchen and doing the dance you have to do when you are working around someone else's movements...  It was special. 

"We do not remember days.  We remember moments."

There is nothing I regret from either of these nights, and in fact... It reminded me of why I am still single.  Part of why, anyway.

Once upon a time, I lived a fairy tale.  I was loved so passionately and wildly and it was amazing.  I didn't know it at the time, but those simple interactions would shape the kind of love I would search for the rest of my life.  The little things were so special back then because it was the first time I had experienced anything like it.  It was genuine.  Both of us were understanding what true love was about.  We were finding ways to express how much we loved each other.  It didn't require a ring.  It didn't require anything.  We only required each other.

We were so in love we couldn't get enough of each other.  Notes were left to remind the other that in our absence they were still on our mind.  Flowers didn't need to come from a store.  When we were driving he would see a flower, stop the car, pull out his knife, and cut it for me.  It was the thought that really did count.

A touch of the skin would set us on fire. 

Everything was irrational at that age.  We were but teenagers.  Nothing made sense and at the same time it fit together.  Everything was dramatic, and everyone was emotional and egocentric. 

We made the best of what we had.  Spending an entire afternoon laying in the backyard and talking until we realized that the stars had come out to greet us.  Not wanting to be the first one to say goodbye or hang up the phone.  Getting butterflies at the thought or mention of their name.  Doing whatever it would take to be with that person...

Things like that still exist, right?  Or am I totally crazy?

Is this totally irrationally rational love something that only teenagers experience?  Does this kind of modern fairy tale still exist for people like me?

I don't need saving anymore.  I'm not a damsel in distress waiting for prince charming.

I just want to experience the passion of loving someone so fully that you can't wait to see them again...  In a time where minutes, seconds and hours  have no meaning and in a place where distance is a figment of the imagination.

I know there will always be someone in my heart, in one way or another.

.... And his brown boots just keep stomping on.