A Romantic Life

Life is, in general, decidedly unromantic. It's full of dirty dishes, long days and difficult choices. It's made up of stressful work days, accidents, and lots and lots of lines. 

That's why I choose to savor the romantic parts of life. It's why I have intimate conversations with my uber drivers - talking about their passions, their dreams, and why the ended their marriages. A deeply personal conversation with someone I will likely never, ever see again. I always appreciate a fleeting moment. 

People watching is immensely enjoyable: reunions at the baggage carousel at the airport, guessing which number date people are on in dimly lit restaurants, and parents laughing with their children. Somehow feeling like a small part of their lives by simply being a witness for a single scene. 

I will always be in awe watching fireworks at Disneyland - synced perfectly to music. Pure magic in the evening air. 

One of my favorite ways to spend a weekend morning is watching the sun rise over the ocean, chasing it down PCH; the waves dotted with surfers and the smell of salt. 

The way the warmth of a fire during pounding rain makes me feel lucky to exist. The glow of twinkle lights and candles is an unceasing source of happiness and contentment.  

I adore playing my favorite sad album on the record player; bringing forth happy, wonderful, and painful memories of people who aren't a part of my life anymore. 

I treasure the thick tension that exists in the seconds before a first kiss and making eye contact across the room with a stranger. 

I find romance in the heartbreak. A relationship ending forces me to reflect on the blessings that were once there: a best friend - someone who knew me deeper than anyone else. Hours spent in laughter and quiet understanding. The dozens or hundreds of sunsets we shared. Gifts given, surprises planned, and embraces shared after personal victories and trying arguments. Mourning the loss of a future planned that will never exist. Remembering that I felt love and gave love and the possibility that I will have that again. 

This is why I'm unashamed by how excited I get over small, insignificant things - almond lattes, an acquaintance remembering a small detail about me, or when a friend unexpectedly comes over on a hard day. I hope I never lose my enthusiasm for being overly sentimental about nothing in particular.