Ordinary Everyday Special Forever Love

Young love is dumb love, but it sure is prolific when it comes to writing. To a hopelessly hopeful romantic wordsmith, anything that has something to do with their “love”, no matter how tangential, insignificant, or fleeting, is a wellspring of inspiration. I was once that guy, spinning what are perhaps the most uneventful or even awful scenarios into Precious Hearts Romance scenes. A sandy, underdeveloped outreach town, a public hospital rife with childbirth pain screams and discharges – these places are/were more romantic than Paris or Venice. Don’t fight me in this; you’ll lose in the same way a thought-provoking indie film would be bested by a JaDine movie in earnings.

But now, looking back at the nine months of being together with who will be hopefully my forever (yes, I purposely used that; this post is meant to be full of jeje cheese), it seems as if I have written almost every little thing they had to do with me. With my girl, however, it seems as if I am not as compelled to. It’s not that I love her less; I love her more than all of them combined. If that’s the case, then to what – or whom – should I attribute the dwindling of love-related posts, especially those about her? I don’t want to peg it to my writing job that redirects my brain juice from romance to gaming-related corporate slavery. Instead, I suspect that it’s because I’m living and breathing the dream, and every breath needs not be chronicled.

It’s a noble thought to be the literary counterpart of the lovestruck millennial who documents even the minutest detail of their love-lives, but somehow…putting them on a digital “paper” would be too much. Because when you’re in a relationship, the amazing and ordinary become one. Nothing amazing about us being content in living small and being as happy in a MiniStop as we would be in Microtel a five-star hotel buffet; nothing amazing about her waiting an extra hour for me after work just so we can meet; nothing amazing about us still constantly texting and chatting each other even though we’re three months shy of celebrating our anniversary; nothing amazing about us talking about books, movies, anime, and video games, especially Pokemon, all the time; and nothing amazing about the infantile baby talk and pet names we already to have and continue to come up with in our texts, although they are amazingly embarrassing and cringe-worthy and therefore private. Nothing amazing about me finding a beautiful, intelligent, kind, colorful, and strong girl who’d love me for and despite my absurdity, nonconformity, and roughness.

Everything that’s sarcastically not amazing has become too many and too much of a part of everyday life already to even write about. That, however, doesn’t mean I’ll no longer write about the mundane. After all, they make up a grandiosity that is life and love. Our convenience store and Fastfood restaurant dates after work, our occasional and cherished meals on Japanese restaurants on BF Homes, our super-chill hangout sessions on each other’s house that I wouldn’t trade for anywhere else, our playtime with our dogs, our gaming sessions, our long walks that never get old despite being on the same roads, and many other simple things that elude me as I wrote this. All of these little things are, when they were lived in the now then that has become the past today, were big. And now, with all of them together, they are colossal. We are colossal, and will continue to grow even more so.

Not everything of everything – not even of the greatest of loves – can be written. That’s alright though, because writing, no matter how significant a part of my life it may be, is still not everything. You are. Besides, all that has transpired has already been written in the stars. Not of those in the heavens, but those in our hearts, with our love chronicling our past, scripting our present, and mapping our future. Our love, more immortal than the words online, paper, or even stone, second only to God’s divine scrolls. And it’s because of the ordinary and little things.

I love you so much honey. Belated happy 9^th. May we make more good things happen, and vice versa, whatever their size and significance may be.