The Reality of Romance

I once had a Social Studies teacher who, upon being asked to explain something, would roll her eyes and screech – in her strong English accent – “Look it up in the OXFORD!” To this day, I’ve never forgotten that some things are best understood by looking them up in the dictionary. Romance n 1: a relationship between two lovers 2: an exciting and mysterious quality 3: the group of languages derived from Latin 4: a story dealing with love 5: a novel dealing with idealized events remote from everyday life … BINGO!! That’s what I was looking for… “idealized events remote from everyday life.” Most women I know can relate to that definition. Whether or not they will admit it, a majority of women love romantic men. I watched an interview with Tom Cruise just this evening. He spent most of his airtime gushing to Oprah Winfrey about his new love, Katie Holmes. To the delight of the adoring (and unfortunately screaming) women in the audience, the guy was literally jumping up and down on his chair, unable to contain his feelings. He talked about motorcycle rides on the beach… filling a hotel suite with rose petals… because he’s a romantic and in love. I couldn’t help but feel that the handful of male viewers that hadn’t already changed the channel were simultaneously looking at their wives or girlfriends and saying, “He just does that stuff to cover up the fact that he’s gay!” Apparently, Tom Cruise is a travel agent for guilt trips. There are so many magazine articles and television shows preaching to women about asking for what they want. Everyone tells us that we create our own reality. We get what we demand. At the risk of being rude – bullshit. We like to think that we’ll get what we ask for but, fact of the matter is, what we usually get are blank stares, shuffling feet… and men who suddenly develop memory loss and speech impediments. It’s really quite remarkable. There must be something wrong with the way we raise our children. Little girls are taught to be loving, nurturing, caring. Little boys are taught that there’s lots of money to be made if you can handle your balls. NO! Not “those”… what kind of piece do you think I’m writing here? Balls… as in golf balls, baseballs, basketballs, footballs. Really ladies – this is about romance, not just sex. A-HA! Welcome to the crux of the matter - SEX. For men, romance is, quite simply, a means to your end. Which end depends on what he’s in the mood for at that particular moment. For women, romance is like a salad. If it’s good, it’s like a promissory note for an incredibly satisfying main course. If it’s bad? You’re hoping the door hits him in the ass on his way back to the kitchen. And there better be ice cream!! Without a doubt, we women like to assert our independence. We don’t need doors opened for us. We’re quite capable of cooking a nice dinner. We know cut flowers never last. Jewellry can be SO ostentatious. We know that leaving notes for someone who lives in the same house is probably silly but… who the hell are we kidding?! WE WANT THESE THINGS, dammit, and we’re prepared to banish to the couch for life – or until the dishes need washing – any man who can’t understand why.