That girl grew up, now old enough to fall in love. She wears a lot of grey and black, and rolls her eyes at Nicholas Sparks novels and Katherine Heigl movies. But she never outgrew the little dreaming girl. But society did.
Society has labeled romance as this quirky, bumbling passing of time between two people. Romance, now, is incomplete without the comedy. What I consider romance is older than old fashioned, and I'm not talking two straws in a chocolate malt. What the little girl in pink believed in was the kind of romance that Shakespeare dared to write, the kind that lies dormant in poetry and art until the beholder brings it to life.
Society has labeled romance as this quirky, bumbling passing of time between two people. Romance, now, is incomplete without the comedy. What I consider romance is older than old fashioned, and I'm not talking two straws in a chocolate malt. What the little girl in pink believed in was the kind of romance that Shakespeare dared to write, the kind that lies dormant in poetry and art until the beholder brings it to life.
Matt Nathanson has a song, Modern Love, that kinda sums me up. It used to be because of the one "Watch your back, I'm nobody's girlfriend," line, but now it's because, upon closer inspection, the lyrics really embody what I'm trying to say. So go ahead and click on the song title and take a look for yourself, but I'm gonna explain the seven words that really drive my point home: this modern love is a taco truck.
When I first heard the song, I had to do a double take. Taco truck, what? Is he on drugs? Probably, but I don't care. After excruciating research, I found an interview where he explains it, and the rest of it is worth reading too because he is an artist and wonderful, thus the providing of the link.
But modern love is a taco truck. It's not the nice sit down dinner, not the home-cooked, feel-good meal it used to be. Now dinner comes to you and you stand outside and eat it instead of sitting down and experiencing dinner for real. I still believe in dinner for real.
When I first heard the song, I had to do a double take. Taco truck, what? Is he on drugs? Probably, but I don't care. After excruciating research, I found an interview where he explains it, and the rest of it is worth reading too because he is an artist and wonderful, thus the providing of the link.
But modern love is a taco truck. It's not the nice sit down dinner, not the home-cooked, feel-good meal it used to be. Now dinner comes to you and you stand outside and eat it instead of sitting down and experiencing dinner for real. I still believe in dinner for real.
Admittedly, this was sparked by my current bedside companion, The World's Greatest Love Letters, compiled by Michael Kelahan. And as someone whose cynicism has developed from failed relationships and trust issues, reading something as honest and beautiful as Alexander Pope's letter to Mary Wortley Montagu gives me faith. The blind kind of faith whispered into the little girl's pillow. And faith that I won't let her down.
I think writing love letters has become a lost art. Or at least writing them well. Robin Williams has a line in Dead Poets Society, "Language was invented for one reason, boys - too woo women - and in that endeavor, laziness will not do." A lot of today's wooing and courtship comes from choosing 'our song' and making inside jokes, and fitting the cliches. I say a lot, because I know everyone feels that they're the exception, and I'm not even saying there aren't exceptions. And realistically, this comes from my experience which is limited to, well, my personal experiences. I don't know every love story out there, every warm fuzzy gotten, every text sent.
That's another thing, texting. I'll take splitting a milk shake over a texting courtship. I've been there, I know it gets me nowhere and nothing but bullshit. If you're the kind who make it work, wonderful. But I encourage you, find another way, something to supplement. Don't just let your thumbs do the talking, don't spend your life waiting for that phone to buzz. There's so much more to a person than what they can say in 3-5 minutes (the appropriate time to wait before responding to a text, according to the tween magazines).
I am now the age that I believed as a little girl was the age to fall in love. And by today's standards, I don't want to. I feel more like the little girl today than I do the young woman that I am, I'm just waiting to grow up to the right age to fall in love, the passionate, mad, inconvenient love, because what I've seen of love today is not enough for me. It's a taco truck.
I've decided your blog should become more like a Dear Abby column. I'm going to offer the first question.
ReplyDeleteDear Natalabby (see what I did there?),
There's this boy who lives in New Jersey who is ridiculously good at writing love letters of sorts and who dislikes taco trucks because he's vegetarian and OH GOD I THINK I'M IN LOVE WITH HIM, WHAT DO I DO
Signed, Nerdy in Littleton
Seriously, though, I still think of you every time I hear that song, which is often because I regularly listen to that album.
Also, you're supposed to wait 3-5 minutes before responding to a text? No one ever told me that. Of course, sometimes it takes me that long to tap out a paragraph and check it for grammatical errors, so.
with love always, ED
Nerdy in Littleton,
DeleteIt sounds like the two of you have a good thing going there, despite the long distance. I'm happy to hear that love letters have made a revival in at least your relationship. I say you keep it going, as a shimmering beacon of hope to all those who sometimes forget what honest love looks like, so long as it remains honest.
Sincerely,
Natalabby (I see what you did there)
And it's funny, because in knowing you think of me, I think of you, so there's this semi-paradoxical relationship.
And yeah, the last time I read tween magazines, that was the case. I'm so glad you're still the person who screens texts for grammatical errors.
Mutual love always,
Natalie
PS- Thanks for commenting, I feel spiffy!