Love is in the air…

So… Tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day. I often wonder how someone like me who used to rejoice when the annual Black Hearts Ball rolled around on Feb 14th came to want to write romance?

Back in high school, I got dumped on Valentine’s Day. Yeah, a real kick in the teeth. I didn’t realize it at the time or for quite a while after, but he actually did me a favor. I would still be stuck in the middle of nowhere living a dead-end life doing a dead-end job to make ends meet and babysitting grandchildren already.

Instead, I went farther away from home to college. I had a bad attitude about the male half of the population and didn’t give any of them much credit. I harbored my share of fruitless crushes and enjoyed the vicarious love and relationships between the pages of every romance novel I got my hands on. Men? I liked ’em, but hadn’t met any yet.

Then, beginning of my senior year, sitting in my History of American Music class with my friend Qui doing our usual scoping to amuse ourselves instead of paying attention, when I spotted this new guy wearing thick nerdy plastic glasses, a ratty rust-colored corduroy jacket, shaggy hair and a raggy t-shirt sitting there taking serious notes (although now I suspect he was doodling). I forget what had me so down that day, but I remember thinking, “Ya know, with my luck, I’ll end up marrying someone like him.”

These days, I wonder at my good fortune! I think we still may owe the guy he ended up rooming with the next year a debt for making us sit down on a week before Valentine’s Day (no pressure there!) and come to a decision on why we weren’t a couple like everyone else already assumed.

The fall of my senior year was one of my worst. I was extremely depressed on many fronts and I had little patience for dealing with people. Finally, I realized this guy “wasn’t people”. I kept spending time in his company when I didn’t want to face anyone else. I would never finished my senior thesis without him either. The ethic of “if I have to work, so do you!” has lasted which is one reason I focus better during chat challenges knowing someone else is working as well.

Eighteen years later, we’re happy, comfortable and have lived in both interesting and hellish places. Our two kids may drive us crazy at times, but I don’t think we’d really try to return them at this point.

I admit I’m not good at celebrating people, but I believe there are people in our lives we are destined to meet and connect with. I’m just lucky I found mine and didn’t end up with a toad. I still enjoy reading romances because of the escape from everyday situations and glimpses at a slower lifestyle. As for writing romance, I want to discover what my characters can teach me about showing and sharing love more consciously.