What a strange thought for a writer who finds writing about romance somewhat inevitable, but alas, onwards we must charge.
I was watching a video this morning that was some news channel and they were talking about what has changed in the year since the Metoo Oscars (can't find a hashtag on my American laptop right now). One of the journalists, not sure if he was acting dense or being dense, but I'm trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, asked the question of 'if she doesn't kiss the man, what's the point of her being in the movie?' And if it weren't for the fact I was on a train full of people drinking my soul mate in coffee form (Starbucks Blonde Roast Soya Flat White has officially dethroned the AMT Organic Oat Milk Flat White because the coffee is less bitter) I would have probably flipped.
Explaining why is probably going to sound like a tangent, but bear with me.
A few years ago, one of my "great aunts" died. She wasn't actually my great aunt, but it was shorthand for my grandad's cousin or some other obscure relationship. She lived alone, had never married and had never had children. We found a few letters from an American military man whom she had been involved with whilst he was stationed in England (to what extent they were involved, I do not know, cannot know and really, do not want to know) and the last struck me as infinitely sad. There was a line in it that said something about he cared for her more than she for him. It was a fleeting romance and ended when he returned home by the seems of it. The romantically inclined part of my brain imagined all sorts of scenarios which prevented her from being with her love, making her lack of a husband be because she never got over him and there was a desperate loneliness to it, but then I realised something - not getting married does not mean that you lack a husband. The word 'lack' is completely wrong, especially when viewed with a wide-angle lens and looking at the photos of the travels that she enjoyed alone. There's a photo I love of her T posing in front of the pyramids, a cheesy grin blasted across her face. Her love of life could not be more apparent. It's not as though she spent her years looking with heartache at the space on the sofa beside her, sighing wistfully at 'what could have been.'
For some, the idea of a life with no partner is daunting. The purpose of life is to find someone, get married and have babies, or that is what is in the minds of many anyway. It's an idea that seems to me like an old sweater that shrunk a little in the wash. There are a few options on what to do with it.
First off, you could do what many career women do. You can soak the sweater in a water and fabric conditioner solution, pin it out back to its original size and let to dry and your sweater has been amended to fit you. Marriage and motherhood no longer has to mean a woman is banished back into her kitchen to make dinner for the brood and all that comes along with it.
Second, you can give the sweater to someone it does fit. Some people WANT a wedding and babies. For some people, that is their aim in life, and it is the job of the rest of the world to remember that that is valid. Have the romance, have the babies, have your happy. Happiness is not one size fits all, so you do you.
Another option is to do what my "great aunt" did. Throw caution to the wind, throw out the sweater and find a life that fits. Maybe you get tared with the brush of being a lonely spinster who is to be pitied, but as long as that isn't true and you know you're finding your happy, that is all that matters.
The second to last one I would say is never give up. There are precious few good films about finding love in later life, and those that there are seem to get limited attention, or they focus on this being the second love of a person's life. They've already been married, and they outgrew that marriage or something awful happened (cheating, divorce, a death of a spouse, anything really) but the idea of finding your first love at an older age seems like an unattractive concept. If you want a romantic love, never give up on that.
The very last is remembering that not all love is romantic. It is possible to be aromantic and asexual or just go through a spell where the idea of dating is far too cumbersome and instead enjoy spending time with your friends. Maybe one of your friends is really great at people watching with you and the two of you can love that together, but that friend hates art, so you go to galleries and exhibitions with another friend. And you love them. You do the things you want to do and enjoy your life and nobody has to kiss each other or be holding a torch to someone who is blind to it. Maybe you do those things alone.
Maybe you dedicate your life to coding a game or writing a book or tending your garden and you have love for those things and something that's almost contempt towards all other humans because they are rubbish and planet ruining. Romance is not intrinsically necessary for a happy and fulfilled life. Sexual love isn't intrinsically necessary either, so maybe ladies, gentlemen, humans of whatever gender, no gender or whatever descriptive word you prefer, we should pick up out pitchforks and tridents and slay the beast that is romance, or maybe tell it that it has no home with us.
Just a thought; catch you later.
