Romance? Pah!

I’ve come to the conclusion that I am really not a hearts and flowers, candy and coochie wooing kinda gal and actually I’m alright with that. It might just be the overwhelming cynic in me but great overblown romantic gestures make me feel uncomfortable, I’d much rather have someone who was thoughtful and open and honest and able to say ‘I love you’ and mean it than someone who thinks that dialling Interflora and popping to Thornton’s = a special thing.

It’s possibly some deep rooted childhood stuff but I associate RAOR (random acts of romance) with a guilty conscience, flowers for a minor indiscretion such as lying or getting drunk with your mates and not coming home or jewellery for a ‘I fucked up badly, had an affair with a stewardess and our eleven year old daughter has just found out’ sort of way. I’ve died inside a little bit when well meaning suitors have given me ‘romantic’ presents, I stopped having teddybears as a child so why would I want a fluffy stuffed bear holding a heart or god forbid one with a recorded message from ‘schmoopsie to snugglebum’, flowers die after a few days, I have a hatred of roses (if you buy me roses then I will want to stab you in the eye with a thorn – get it?) and Valentine’s Day was made up by Hallmark as another excuse to peddle tat to the masses. I’d rather have a fella that hears a cool song and remembers the name of the band because he wants to tell me later or who de-ices my windscreen in the morning after doing his than someone who wants to keep Hallmark and Interflora in business. It’s the small things that count afterall.

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