I was reading an article in the paper today about the love lives of senior citizens. Apparently, a lot of widows and widowers are finding romance - which is a really nice thing to see.
This got me to thinking - Kirsti was filling out one of those silly surveys on MySpace the other day, and one of the questions was along the lines of, "Do you believe that you only get one true love in your lifetime?" Kirsti answered in the negative. Why? Because she doesn't love me.
No, seriously, that's the way I would have answered it too. The thing is, the idea that there's only one person who's out there for you is one of those notions that seems nice. If I scoff at the idea, I'm accused of not being a romantic. (And I AM a romantic, dammit! As I wrote in a previous blog, I get choked up every time I get to the end of Cyrano de Bergerac with my freshmen classes!)
I've had more than one person tell me that Kirsti and I were "meant to be" together. Nuts to that, I say. And again, I'm sure that there are folks who would accuse me of not being romantic for saying that.
The thing is, I don't find anything the least bit romantic about either one of those ideas. One person - and I'm fated to be with her? So, no matter what, she's the one I'd end up with? Where's the romance in that?
Let me put it this way. I wanted to live with Kirsti because I love her. I wanted to marry her because I love her. The reason why I didn't leave the house and call things off with her yesterday is because I love her. The reason why I didn't do that today is because I love her. As for tomorrow, nothing is guaranteed, but I think it's safe to say that if the sun comes up like it usually does (astronomy nerds, be quiet, please) then I'm going to love her then as well.
She puts up with my weird habits. She understands me when I don't feel like socializing with people. She doesn't tell me that I need to stop reading comic books. I can do a stupid little dance in the living room, and she'll always smile and laugh at it - and then she'll smile even more when I tell her that the only reason she's laughing is because she's jealous of what a good dancer I am. She challenges me to think things through a bit more than I do sometimes. She's fun to talk to. It's relaxing and never awkward to just sit and be quiet with her. I love watching her snuggle with the cat, despite her insistence that she's not a "cat-person."
I'm with her because I love her, and she's with me because she loves me. Why do we need some greater, mysterious power like fate to give it meaning?
And I hope that if I go before her, she is able to be happy with the rest of her life - even if that means finding somebody else. I know that she wishes the same for me.
So in the meantime, I'm going to let "because we love each other" be all the reason we need for being together. And dammit, that's romantic.