Thursday 7 November 2019

Reclaiming My HEA: Reigniting Romantic Hope

Reclaiming My HEA is a regular feature about my separation and divorce.  I'm learning a lot of lessons about myself and finding the balance between romantic hope and practical reality.

As I write this, I'm sitting on a beach with the warm sunshine in my face and my toes curled in the soft sand.  For any Canadian in November, this is already an unexpected and welcome treat, but what's drawing my attention are the other people on the beach.  Particularly the couples.


There are all kinds to watch here.  Young teenagers playfully navigating their first romantic relationships.  Parents working together to corral their children.  And the sweetest of all, an elderly couple walking hand in hand, where he keeps pausing to present her with the prettiest shells on the beach and she's saving every one in her handbag.

Some of these couples are obviously deeply in love with one another.  Others are caught up in the thrill of holiday freedom and enjoying a little commitment-free flirting.  Some seem to have settled into a comfortable partnership but still take a moment for a shared glance or passing touch.

I'm sure there are unhappy couples here as well.  Ones where it seems impossible for them to remember what drew them together in the first place or where the day-to-day grind has extinguished their connection.  I've been half of one of those couples.  I would look around and see people in love all around me and I would wonder what I was doing wrong and why my relationship had become so empty.

Now I find myself in the position of being entirely outside the romantic circle, looking in as an observer.  Dating in your forties is a daunting prospect and there are legions of toads out there which no amount of kissing will transform into a prince.  I've had to take stock of myself and ask myself the question: what is it that I really want?

Then as I was people-watching, I saw something which clarified it for me.  A younger couple (I would guess late twenties or early thirties) standing in a close embrace.  I couldn't see her face, but I could see his.  The expression on his face would be hard to describe, but as a romance author, I will give it my best shot.

His hand was cradling her face as if she were something unbelievably precious and rare.  He had a tender smile, as if this moment was making him happier than he'd ever believed would be possible.  And his eyes were smoldering with full-blazing passion.  Anyone whose partner was looking at them like that couldn't help but feel like the most beautiful, special, and loved person in the world.

Being a non-voyeuristic sort of person, I snuck away before they realized I had seen their private moment.  But the image lingered with me.

That's what I want.  I want to experience being on the receiving end of a look like that.  Because I find it impossible to believe that anyone could fake such a potent combination of affection, attraction, and passion.

There have been times when I've cynically wondered if those kinds of feelings ever occur outside the carefully scripted world of movies and books.  But now I've had a reminder that they do.  And that has given my little flame of hope a fresh spark.

Romance is all about tiny sparks in the darkness.  Because in our stories, no matter how black the night is, those sparks are just waiting to find the right circumstances to create the fires that will warm a heart forever.


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