Romantic ramblings

Another Valentine's Day, come and gone. Once again, again being the 30th year in a row, I have had no reason to celebrate what I have come to refer to as "yet another Hallmark holiday," meant solely to guilt us into keeping the specialty gift industry in the black.

But secretly, I'm always a little sad to spend Valentine's Day without a sweetheart to call my own.

Everyone always tells me that true love will find me when I'm not looking. But truth be told, I rarely search for it. Oh, I've done the eHarmony thing, which has elicited some rather strange exchanges but not a single date (note to self - remember to cancel subscription the next time it's up for renewal), but I'll go months without even checking my matches, the current backlog of which would take me the rest of 2010 to review. Though I'm ever hopeful of finding a true romance - I do write the stuff, after all - I've grown used to not having romance directed at me.

This morning at church, to celebrate the pseudo-holiday, a Marriage Vow Renewal Service was done at the end of our worship. Twenty-five couples stood before their friends and families and rededicated themselves to the love of their spouse. And while several couples had been married a relatively short two years, they were vastly outnumbered by couples rededicating themselves after 20 or 30, even 58 years! Even as I applauded and genuinely congratulated my fellow parishioners, I felt an ache in my heart. I want that to be me, looking into the eyes of the man I love after fifty years and still knowing that he's the one for me.

After the service, I had the chance to talk to an older couple, who reminded me of my grandparents, about their participation. Surprisingly, they'd only been married seven years. A second marriage for two widowed individuals who had never expected to find love again, they met on a dance floor and lightning struck. Three weeks later, they were engaged.

What must it be like to experience that instant connection? That sudden awareness that you've found the missing half of your soul? Or, for others, to have that blossoming awareness over time that you've found the person you're meant to spend the rest of your life with?

I've never even come close to knowing what that must feel like, so I must rely solely on my imagination, spurred by the testimony of friends and scores of romance novels. I'm almost ashamed to admit it, but I've never even felt the strength of affection that could be mistaken for romantic love. Is there something inherently wrong with me?

Even if there is, I haven't given up hope yet. It may be an effort in futility, but I find that I'm still a die hard romantic at heart. And until this heart stops beating, I don't think I'll ever give up hope that I'll find someone to take care of that heart.