Each Romantic Monday I find my brain reflecting on past romances I have had in my life. I fondly remember what was so beautiful about them, and I sadly recall the things that could have been so much better.
When I am in love, the object of my affection is well aware of my feelings. I am very demonstrative with subtle touches and knowing looks, I am very generous with my words of love and support and I strive to achieve the element of surprise when it comes to giving little tokens to simply make that other person smile.
For some reason, on my drive to work this morning I dredged up a past relationship that had been pronounced dead long before its time. After many attempts to perform CPR on the lifeless romance, it flat-lined and I had to call it. I walked away knowing I had done all I could to save it and scrubbed my hands of the regret.
But that premature death still bothers me, because he just didn’t get it. I would leave cards or poems on his dashboard just to make him smile. What I thought was keeping us close, inevitably drove a wedge between us and the diseased cells began to form. He was unable to appreciate the gifts I gave because they made him feel guilty for not buying me gifts or leaving cards where I would find them hours later. What he failed to realize, is the only thing I wanted in return was his love. I didn’t expect him to mirror my efforts, but I did expect him to understand that those displays and those gifts were me. And if he couldn’t accept those, he couldn’t accept me. Time of death – 8:00 pm on a Tuesday long ago.
I still visit the shallow grave of that romance on occasion. I used to leave flowers on the tombstone, but I have since realized they will never be appreciated.