If you’ve ever been called a hopeless romantic, or gotten into an argument with friends about whether love is dead or not, then you’ll understand how I feel at times. Everyone is entitled to their own beliefs of course, and if you’ve been hurt before, you’re twice as likely to believe it’s all rubbish and meaningless. Been there, done that. Men are bastards etc.
But as with everything, you can’t base your opinion of a whole thing on just one little detail. Not all pizzas are bad just because you had food poisoning once. The same way, not all men are bastards, just because one (or two or five) have been.
I’ve been on holiday for almost two weeks now and everywhere I look, I see love. Ok, let me get my Hugh Grant bit out first, there’s of course lots of love between parents and children, brothers and sisters, friends and colleagues etc.
But what I want to talk about is romantic love, couple love (straight, gay, whatever).
When you people watch (and believe me, in massive crowds it’s basically the only thing you can do, then you’ll notice lots of little things that will make you go “aaaww” a lot:
Like the couple on the beach who is lying on their towels sleeping all wrapped up in each other.
Or the old people walking hand in hand eating ice cream.
The young girl reaching up to her boyfriend for a hug and his look of utter happiness and bliss as he wraps his arms around her and nuzzles her neck.
The man lying on the floor, his head in his girlfriend’s lap, both of them tracing the outlines of each other’s faces as if wanting to memorise them for ever.
The older couple who starts to get up and dance as a band starts to play in the street.
The lovebirds who need to “get a room” in the middle of the ocean.
The teenagers who play-fight in the waves before kissing shyly.
The young mother who breastfeeds her baby while her husband looks at them with a proud smile.
“If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.”