On Romanticism

Are you, or are you not, a hopeless romantic?

My social adventures are such that I tend to meet and talk with a lot of different people from many different subcultures of young America (and, to a lesser extent, other age groups and nationalities). This provides me with joyfully unfettered opportunity to indulge in my fascination with people's conception of their own identities. In the course of all kinds of conversations, self-proclaimed labels leak out from around the seams of our interests and activities in frank declaration of what may or may not be true. Social status, religion, philosophical base, world view, entertainment preference, sexuality, racial socialization, sub-gender, and so many more that it will cause your brain to dislodge from you skull come out in an unbounded symphony of self-perception.

As diverse as these labels may be, there is one that has come to puzzle me, namely the label of Hopeless Romantic. More than any other abstract moniker, this emotional life-state is claimed by anyone and everyone who has the werewithal to realize that such things exist. Virtually everyone seems to call themselves a Hopeless Romantic. Even (and I might be persuaded to argue "mostly") those who have no right to call themselves that.

So you think you're a hopeless romantic? Think again.

I was reading somebody's blog the other day, as I often do with certain blogs. Now, this girl thinks, behaves, and talks in ways that would cause many people to rightly label her a "bitch" (don't ask me why I might choose to associate with her given this fact, just accept that the association is there). Her view of men and how she interacts with them is somewhat non-traditional, even to the point of being horrifying. Her cynicism is rampant, her sexual ethics paltry, and her coquette status will eventually, I have little doubt, lead to ruin. There will be anger, and men will die.

So, naturally, she refers to herself as a hopeless romantic.

This is not an isolated case. So many times over the last months and years have I heard a girl (and in lesser numbers, a guy) refer to herself by this term only to have a Piven-esque "What the fuck" response bubble up inside me like so much falsely idealistic bile. Of all these girls I have heard call themselves hopeless romantics, not one has ever measured up.

What does being a hopeless romantic mean? I ask this only because it seems like many people, in describing themselves as such, have either never thought about the meaning or have exercised heights of poor social concept in doing so the likes of which are normally only seen in the declaration of holy wars. Take a minute and really think about what it means.

Being a hopeless romantic means falling in love hard and fast and not recovering in accordance with rational procedure. It means never citing potential or past pain as a reason for not acting on that love. It means surrendering to your feelings for another person, be it boundless passion or burning envy. It means acting on those feelings. It especially means accepting grand gestures of love when they are offered, and accepting them in that same spirit. It means recognizing fear as just a sign of something that is meaningful enough to you to pursue by any means necessary, and it means disregarding that fear as soon as it comes time to pick up the phone, walk across the room, or lean in for a kiss. It means taking joy in candlelit surprises, grand declarations, spontaneous trips, unexpected gifts, and new loves. It means returning all those things in kind and with a song in your heart. It means forgiveness instead of anger and action in the face of despair. It means stopping for a moment before you say "no," and really thinking about what it would be like to say "yes."

Does this sound good to you? Think about it before you answer.

Here's a test (forgive me my bias, this is designed for the women in the audience). Most of us by now have seen "Hitch," starring the ever glorious Will Smith and the incomprably beautiful Eva Mendes. It is as fine a romance on the screen as I have ever seen and is quite popular right now, so we will use it as an example. Think, if you will, about the last few minutes of that movie. Hitch goes to his estranged lady's apartment and levels with her, essentially telling her in very impassioned terms that despite all of the romantic horror he has experienced, he is completely at her mercy so deep are his feelings for her. He is so dedicated to making her understand that he leaps onto her moving car just so he can explain, braving severe injury in the process. Oh, yes, and he does most of it in the presence of another man who he assumes is her new beau. The final line he says in the grand speech is "There is only one person who makes me feel like I can fly. And that's you." When we watch the movie, we "awwww" appreciably and think what a great guy he is (as does his lady love, predictably).

Test Question: If a guy actually said this exact same thing to you, how would you react?

I would give heavy odds that, when the chips were down, virtually every one of you, your friends, and everyone like you would think he was the biggest freak this side of the Mississippi and refuse to have anything to do with him.

People in our culture simply can't deal with romance. They don't want it. We are brought up in the belief that our amorous interactions either have to be meaningless or coldly calculated. The rationale here seems to be that anything we really and truly care about and might heavily affect our lives should not be decided upon while the amor in question stands underneathe our window serenading us after filling our room with flowers (sidebar: Don't think that guys wouldn't go for that, ladies. Serenading and flowers may seems immasculating to some, but they also show you care).

In fact, most of us are so removed from all things romantic that they can't even recognize what is romantic and what is not, and when we do recognize it we react with revulsion. I believe that there was an episode of the much-lauded "Sex and the City" regarding the subject. The conclusion of which, I am sorry to say, supports the idea that American women can not/should not even attempt romance, that they are "romance intolerant." I hear this declaration and witness women agree with it and then see those same women turn around and declare themselves hopeless romantics.

I myself have fallen prey to this in the past, and I still wrestle with the question of whether or not I myself am I hopeless romantic. It is an ideal that I aspire towards, but the necessities of daily life lead to devices to prevent it (not to mention the horrid lessons of romantic actions failed), which I constantly battle against. I can only suggest that others do the same. If you are one of those rare and fortunate individuals who truly eats, sleeps, and breathes romanticism, then I salute you. If you are one of those who, like myself, truly wishes to achieve that highest light, please just think about it enough to realize what you truly are. Only then, once you know what you're in for, can you make headway into all those things that it means to be a hopeless romantic. Only then can we begin, ever so hopefully, to take that leap.

And hope to God we can fly.