I love you even though your feet and hair stink
It's as romantic as fake flowers.
I don't divulge much about my girlfriend or our relationship, but this statement made me realize how lucky I am.. how she is.. even though she says my feet and hair smell at times.
When we went on one of our first dates last year, I did a long run that morning with my sister out in George Washington National Forest. On the way home, we passed a cemetery where a windstorm had blown some of the fake flowers across the road. I wanted to make a good impression and show up with flowers, but didn't know if I'd have time to stop to get real flowers, so instead I picked up the best looking fake flowers I could find on the ground. Let's just say I made quite the impression that night when I pulled them out of the sleeve of my jacket like an amateur magician. I have since surprised her a few more fake flowers from that same cemetary as well as some real flowers. (A girl knows when she's in trouble! ;) And, yes, they were from a store, not from a cemetery.
Even if received with a mix of rolling eyes, head shakes, and smooches on the cheek, I can't pass a cemetery without looking for the best bouquet of flowers for my girl.
We got along well from the start and were never fake with the other person, or did/said something, to appear more appealing (The flowers don't count!). We were very blunt (honest) about our feelings, likes, and dislikes, and just opened our hearts to each other. Now we are so open with each other, we are about as open as the bathroom door. "Are you pooping?" is asked as frequently as "I love you" is spoken. All couples do it, right?? Talking about the last time you had a bowel movement, or what 'sparked' it is a common reply to the question of "how was your day?" Isn't it like that with everyone??
We have a morning routine where we do our own thing - she walks the dog and I run or bike. Having prepared a weeks worth of lunches and snacks on the weekend, another 1/3 of the morning at home includes pulling those items from the fridge and putting them in their respective lunchbags as well as making breakfast. At some point, during the final 1/3 of the morning, while the other is showering/getting dressed, a note is slipped into their lunch bag. Even though it is expected, it is always a nice surprise to get.
"I love you to Pluto and back!"
"Have a good day"
"I had a wonderful weekend with you"
"2 days in a row with a note - don't get used to it"
"I still love you EVEN though you don't listen to me"
"I had a good time in the kitchen even if you tried to tell me what to do"
Mine are a little more heartfelt and sometimes include a cutsey drawing of two people in a hot air balloon, a tree with initials and a plus sign carved into it, or a heart with an arrow through it.
"I finally wrote you a note. Happy now?"
True love.
It hasn't been the easiest of times and we've had a few rough patches, and, sure, we bother the heck out of each other at times, and we get on each others nerves, and she beats me up, and I don't pick up enough, and she doesn't fold my shirts the right way, and I don't make enough 'us time', and I've threatened to sleep on the sofa some nights, and I still don't know how to drive her standard car, and it's not a good thing to laugh when she's singing while scrubbing the kitchen floor even though you think it's cute.. and..
Well, what I'm getting at is that we make it work even though it's not a well oiled machine. It works for us.
Fake flowers, poop talk, stinky feet and the inability to drive a standard might've scared away others (ok, it has). But it was something about that first chai at Murkey Coffee in Eastern Market, discussing the actors that have played James Bond after seeing "Breach", and dinner at Banana Cafe that slowly brought us together and to where we are now.
It was a path with as many ups and downs, rocks and roots as the trails we run/hike on.
Today isn't a special day or anniversary or anything. It was a typical morning with our typical breakfast and typical routine and our typical bickering. After reading the note in my lunch bag, I looked at the picture on my desk of planet formerly known as Pluto in the gawdy frame that my gal gave me, and I know that I am loved that much - to Pluto and back - no matter what.
Stinky feet and all.