Love's Not Like Clockwork . . . or Reality TV
Posted: Thursday, May 07, 2009
by John Weber
http://screambucket.com/
I don't know if it's a man thing or not, but I suffer from what I'll call a certain antipathy to ceremony-the idea that I have to think, feel, or act a certain way because of a "special" time, place or occasion. I loathe the fuss of birthday parties ( Surprise!), detest the countdown to the "spontaneous" celebration of January 1 st ( Happy New Year!) and absolutely reject the calculated "romance" of Valentine's Day ( I Love You. Today. Right here, right now. Have a chocolate). I say this as my wife slips in an out of my space, offering little snippets of "spur-of-the-moment" conversation; subtly, she thinks (or subtly, I think she thinks) hinting that Valentine's Day is fast approaching. Me? I couldn't care less. But read on, if you think I'm somehow less than romantic . . . or maybe, suddenly, gripped by some vacuous-husband death wish.
A quick case in point, ladies, or maybe several: Real men aren't like those guys on the soaps or those guys in the novels. We don't answer to names like Ridge, Thorn or Stone and we don't swoon or cry. We don't remember the date we first met you or the words you first said, and if by chance we do recall your birthstone, it's because your mother told us. And you want to know why?
Cause we're too damn busy.
See, once we found you-our main quest and purpose (how's that for romance?)-our work wasn't done. In fact, we're still hunting and gathering, trying to keep you. That's why, for most men, love isn't an occasion or something you say. It's not something you turn on or off like a faucet. That's why most men aren't Bold and Beautiful, they're more like Forrest Gump. And to paraphrase that sad romantic, love isn't like a box of chocolates, it's something much more: getting up, going to work, and coming home again . . . day after day after day.
And maybe that's why we don't constantly say that you're beautiful or compliment your hair or your clothes. Maybe that's why we don't always answer when you ask if your hair's turning gray or your butt's getting fat. See, Ali McGraw just got it half right when she said "love means never having to say you're sorry." Love, for men, means never having to say anything. It's a contentment-a security-that comes from knowing that you've already been hunted, already gathered. So next time you start stressing out that you're not what you used to be, realize, to us, it just doesn't matter. We leave every day and come home every night, remember? How can flowers top that?
In our minds, it can't. But still . . .
My wife and I have been watching The Bachelor lately, thirty women each vying for one guy-cut loose or kept on-one impossible dream date after another. But true love, or reality doesn't happen like that; in fact it's much more like this (or considering the number of divorces, maybe should be).
After a year together, my girlfriend and I had a huge fight. Faced with the prospect of ending it, I realized I couldn't live without her. I went back for Round II and got right to the point. "We've had a terrible fight," I said. "And right now, we hate each other. I know you'd say yes if I proposed on some romantic cruise or a trip to the islands, but that's not what marriage is all about. I don't think we'll ever be angrier than we are right now . . . and despite that, I still love you. So . . . will you marry me?"
My girlfriend's jaw dropped, torn between anger and the practical reality of what I'd just said. It's easy to be in love on a dream date but what happens after you wake up? The more she thought about it the more I made sense. Thankfully, she said yes'.
Anyway, 25 years later, I'm still with the same girl, she's still with the same guy. The same guy that thinks saying "I love you' on February 14 th is about as romantic as slipping on a condom or waiting for the Viagra to kick in. See, for me, "making love" is a day-to-day thing, sharing a home, a bed, a life . . . but still, I'm not stupid.
I heard all the hints when Valentine's Day was approaching and for that reason I bought the flowers and made reservations. At dinner that night I said something mushy and she pretended to believe me, the two of us older but no worse for wear, and somehow maybe, a little better.
Love-for one day, anyway-like clockwork.
Just like TV.
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Top-level comments on this article: (4 total)I'm reading between the lines and I suspect you're the kind of guy who gives his wife flowers for no reason, on any given day, rather than being predictable on a special occassion. I agree with you. Love, romance and committment is not all about candy and flowers on Valentines Day, it's about all the days in between and all of the little things you do for one another. Good article John, I get ya.My wife makes loving her (and showing it) really easy. She's a sweetheart (just don't tell her I told you).
I love that you gave your wife what she thought she wanted on Valentine's Day.The fact that you actually listened to her hints was probably as precious to her as what you did. It's nice to be heard and have your needs, and sometimes your wants, met, even when they're met by someone who could care less.Great article.Right on, Granny! Also nice was avoiding the wrath I would have incurred had I not listened to her.
Wow! You get it! Love is 24/7.I understand that my husband is showing his love by "hunting and gathering." Why else would he do it? I respect and love him because of it. I see it as our taking care of each other.He also hates "Hallmark Holidays" as he likes to call them. ( But, he understands that a part of being a "hunter and gatherer" involves our birthdays, our anniversary and Christmas.) Amazingly, I absolutely CHERISH the cards that he gives me more than the gifts. These cards are always so sweet and straight to the point.So yes, it is the little stable things that matter.Thanks for the comment! Nice to know I'm not the only "caveman" who feels this way (and my wife's not the only woman who understands it). Sorry I didn't respond sooner (Internet's been screwed up for a week).
Reading this article helped to put so many things in perspective for me. All along I have been moaning about the one who is gone and the differences between him and the one I now have. I now know that it's genetic and he can't help it. He's a Machan boy! Enough said! I will now be much kinder in the future.
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