Sid laments the loss of romance

I was walking toward my living room one afternoon and as I was approaching it I heard the sound of sniffling.  The door was slightly ajar and I stopped outside to peep through the crack.  What I saw was the rather alarming sight of Sid on the couch, watching the telly, a tissue clutched in his hand and tears streaming down his face.  The source of the sniffling unearthed, I proceeded to burst into the room in panic to inflict harm on whomever or whatever had reduced Sid to this sorry state. Rushing toward him I asked, “What’s wrong baby? Why are you crying?”  He looked up at me and instead of answering, a fresh stream of tears rolled down to express further distress.  This caused me to really panic and I shook him, hoping to shock his vocal cords into telling me what the hell was going on.  It worked. “Oh bubz, it’s no use. I’m in mourning.  It’s gone, all gone”.  This explanation explained nothing to me.  A “what do you mean, who’s gone” and additional shake for good measure followed, which helped in further articulation. “I am lamenting the death of romance, bubz. It’s tragic”.  To say I was shocked would be an understatement.  For Sid to be lamenting anything was something I couldn’t fathom. The fact that he would even use the ‘L’ word meant it was serious, he would never have bothered to consult the online dictionary for the appropriate word otherwise.  “But what happened?” He just pointed to the tv.

I followed the point to find one of my all-time favourite animated movies playing, “Lady and the Tramp” and it was the scene where Lady and Tramp were eating spaghetti together, slurping on a long strand which brought their faces closer to each other, their noses bump playfully and they look all shy and happy.  “Now that”, Sid said “is amoré”.  He looked at me and asked, “When was the last time you slurped spaghetti with me?”  I was stung by this accusation of my supposed lack of the romantic spirit.  “Umm never, you don’t even like spaghetti, you find it messy” He stared at me like that wasn’t the point and just in case I hadn’t understood the stare, he verbalized it, “That’s not the point stupid”.  He then pointed at me and said “Look at you”. I glanced at my mismatched night clothes, my comfy blue shorts (the same that made an appearance in “Sid reaches and settles”) and a sky blue long-sleeved pyjama top which had a mouse smiling on the front.  My hair was piled up untidily in a glistening oiled fountain, reeking of eucalyptus and coconut and Fem bleach was creamed all over my face (except the under-eye area and lips as instructed on the pack).  “What’s wrong?” I asked with non-bleached lips.  “What’s wrong is we are getting lazy. It’s true, marriage kills romance. Look at what you’re wearing.”.  I was quick to retort, “Hey, I can’t look good 24-7 ok, it takes some effort and look at yourself.  And my dad bought me this pyjama top”.  He snorted, “Figures! Dads would want to make sure even after their precious daughters get married that they remain virgins”!  I smacked him over the head and told him to snap out of it before heading off to wash my face.

While I splashed around I got thinking.  It's not essentially marriage, but just that beast called "time" that makes us take each other for granted and get rather lazy. If you've been with your partner long enough you, the initial "rom-com" will probably slip into a "roma-coma". We don't make as much of an effort to celebrate milestones, small or big; make as much time for our significant others; our tempers tend to tarnish things; and a lot of the time you tend to go out with a group of people rather than just make time for yourselves.  And it's not just romance.  A conversation with a friend of mine turned into a discussion about the French and how they're reputed to have the most sex among any other people in the world.  Questioning her on the source of this highly controversial claim, she  said she had heard from a friend of a friend so it had to be reliable. So her New Year's resolution for the year was to beat the French!  I asked her how that was going for her. "Not so good" was the answer, "You know how they say that if you fill a jar with marbles for the number of times you have sex in the initial year of your relationship and then  take one out for the number of times you have it in the next 5 years you'll still have marbles left over?" I admitted to my ignorance on that one, but she proceeded to tell me that it never happens to the French.  I proceeded over time to test this by asking my other girl friends about this and answers did range from "Is it ok to say we both enjoy food more?" to "Just so tired, man!" to "When you have kids, you get used to sleeping in an 'A' with your child as a horizontal barrier between you or an "H", so it's rather tricky, not to say scarring for your child"!

I unfortunately seem to attract the attention of strange older men who want to discuss their cynical views of marriage and some even tell me about the practice of abstinence by married couples to help achieve a higher spiritual awareness (I think it's called alchemy).  If the latter is true and if it's mainly the French who are indulging in baser instincts then most other long-termers or married couples should have achieved nirvana by now!  Anyhow, I digress, the discussion was about laziness.  Of course the upside is a comfortable intimacy, but Sid was right - proximity over time could make us less appreciative of our partners or rather lazy about expressing it.  I am a romantic at heart and though I do feel marriage is possibly the hardest relationship one will ever enter into, I enjoy it very much.  Yes, we get lazy, but sometimes it's even the smaller things that can make one feel special, even after years of being together.   It doesn't matter what I cook Sid will always tell me that it's brilliant.  However silly a joke he cracks I usually find myself grinning hours later when remembering it.  I recently left my job voluntarily, going through one of the most turbulent emotional patches I have ever been through and I had a super supportive family and friends throughout, but it was Sid's company that I sought at the end of the day - the comfort of knowing he was there and his humour keeping me afloat.  Inside my cupboard is stored a ridiculous birthday card from Sid that was actually meant to be an anniversary card, but he scratched out the words "Birthday" and scribbled "Anniversary", pointing out that it was the thought that counted and that there was a sexy big-boobed bikini belle on the card and he had labelled it 'Reem' thoughtfully!  So maybe romance in the conventional sense takes a beating, but it evolves into something stronger and heartier that doesn't really seem romantic, but is still solid gold.  However, that's not to say that we wouldn't enjoy a little more celebration of traditional romance, which I truly believe everyone needs to find time to plan or indulge in, but each couple defines their own notions of romance and intimacy and whether that's an elaborately planned surprise vacation or watching Lady and the Tramp together, I am an eternal optimist and still see a lot of "romance" out there.

I exited the loo all shiny and bright and Sid was still mopping up his tears.  I smiled at him and said "How about we open a bottle of wine, I'll make some food and we'll watch a sappy movie together."  His face lit up and said "Can we order ice-cream too?". I nodded, "Sure, why not. And which movie would you like to watch? Ooh how about Gone with the Wind, I so love that movie".  Two hours later remnants of spaghetti and some atrocious wine which we had polished off, littered the living room table.  We had stuffed ourselves like beach whales and were laughing hysterically and slur-rily through an episode of "Lie to Me", way more entertaining than "Gone with the Wind".  "So bubz", I winked, "want to go beat the French"?  He looked at me lazily from the other end of the couch and said "Let's cuddle, I really should have skipped that ice-cream if we wanted to beat the French, I can't move!"  I burst out laughing, "I bet Tramp didn't say that to Lady after they slurped spaghetti together!"  He looked at me wisely, "Oh bubz, you really can't believe everything you see in the movies"!