Crazy little thing called love

Earlier this year I was at a really lovely wedding - it was simple, elegant and genuine. I had a sense of the room being filled with love. During the speeches we learnt that the couple had "known" from almost their first meeting that they would be together.

This got me thinking about notions of love at first sight, soul mates, meeting 'the right person', and all those expectations surrounding romantic love. Does that stuff really happen, or do people embellish their romance stories ever so slightly for the speeches? For those of us whose love life journey has more in common with Bridget Jones than any fairytale lovers, it's easy to be a touch on the cynical side.

It probably didn't help that this wedding came soon after a brush with 'something' that wasn't. On a trip down memory lane we shared in the every-day, the delightful, the deep and the downright ridiculous. In that short space of time I had a glimpse of a possibility, an opportunity missed. Anyway, it doesn't matter now. The timing has been - as Hugh Grant said in Four Weddings and a Funeral - very bad indeed.

So, as I farewelled the newlyweds and headed home to my delightful apartment for one, I couldn't help but wonder... 'Will I ever find the type of romantic love that I witnessed today?' Who knows. The truth is, I have pretty high expectations for love now. I'd rather be on my own than with somebody who feels a bit meh about me. And I don't want to feel meh about them, either.

And besides, I've probably had my fair share of romance, if I'm honest with myself. It just hasn't followed conventional trajectories or even a strict chronological order. For example, the other day I had a delightful colony of butterflies encircling my stomach when I ran into somebody that I had a bit of a crush on last year. I remembered what a lovely person they are and felt glad to have seen them.

Then there is the cherished memory of the encoded message written all those years ago, declaring feelings for me. Its author sat there bravely as I painstakingly decoded the message in front of about a dozen of my psychology friends.

And in between there have been letters, song dedications, electronic flowers (because environmentalists hate to see flowers picked), chocolate discovered on my desk at work, a Swiss army knife with my name engraved in lower case (because, equality for all letters), plenty of giggles, breakfast prepared as per weird diet guidelines, whispered secrets, some wonderfully awkward moments, and great tenderness.

So, rather than feeling too downhearted, I am actually buoyed by the fact that this year has only just begun and already the universe has reminded me, in the most beautiful and bitter-sweet ways, that love is, actually*, all around me.


*any resemblance to British romcoms is purely coincidental.