You may think that the above title would merit a piece consisting of nothing more than a couple lines explaining that one should get the fuck over themselves and succumb to the temptation of The Most Romantic Person in the World, falling in love practically without trying and living happily every after. But falling in love isn't always so easy, even with this aforementioned entity. Sometimes love is a burden to you. Sometimes love scares the shit out of you. Sometimes there's a line of men waiting outside your closed door to love you and you choose the only one in the crowd who doesn't give half a shit about you and then expect something amazing to follow. Sometimes you may find that you're a little bit like me, in which case love doesn't come naturally to you like maybe all those books you've read and all those friends of yours have told you it should. To this I say don't fret, because somewhere in that crowd of eager men, there is one of them who is not a total loser. There is one of them, and probably only one, who will sit in a chair and stare you down with his charm until you've got practically no choice to rebuttal to his feverish "I love you" with an honest to goodness "I love you too."
At the beginning, you may think it no different than every other affair that's lead you down a path of worthless flattery and boring sex. You may find it no different than all those mindless endeavors to corner stores to get beer so as to drown out how impossibly dull your life is when you spend it with tedious gentlemen from the conventional side of hell. You may feel as though there is no way to love this person because at the moment you first laid eyes on him, you thought he was nothing special. But I encourage you to see beyond this, as there is more to it than that. How many times has a man tried to woo you in the past? Millions, right? Of course, so this appears no different, and the mindless romance is just the front of the monotonous relationship to come. Yes, I have been here before, too. I have judged every character before me and concluded that the only one worth loving is the one who will take the adventurous path to neglect and ruin, and eventually you'll find happiness when you're both holding hands and skipping off a cliff. But look where that gets you; it gets you nowhere but hurt and shame. Bare with me and listen to what The Most Romantic Person in the World is capable of, and maybe you'll realize that if you keep an open mind and stick with it, expecting nothing and accepting everything, you will eventually realize without doubt that you have fallen, and that it's not as bad as you thought it would be.
It starts with love letters. Pish Posh, you say. Why, if I had a nickel for every love letter I'd received in the past, I'd be the most successful Jewish woman in history! This is true, my dear, but you're not seeing not the whole picture. Perhaps after a few of them you begin to realize that these are not just your ordinary love letters. These love letters are inspirational, and instead of packing them into your designated love letter drawer, you tape them to your wall and allow them to stimulate you. Now you are in the beginning stages, and although there is still time to turn around and wave your middle finger in the wind, you instead begin a response. And another letter comes and you formulate another response. Another letter, and yet another response. This is abnormal, you say, as you place a love letter next to the recipient's sleeping face and walk out the door. You are inspired by these doses of affection in a way that you have not felt verbal sparks before. Do not hide from this; when nothing is expected of you and you suppose nothing of your future with The Most Romantic Person in the World, embrace what you feel and do what you wish, as it is your life to live and your inspiration to feel. A need and want to respond is the first step to falling in love with him.
After the love letters comes the necessary need to figure out what exactly it is you want. You do this by haphazardly picking the bad guy; that guy I mentioned before with the cliff and the never-ending downward fall into romance hell. You do this by rubbing in everyone's face the fact that you have made your choice and you have chosen the single biggest douchebag in the world. He is handsome and great in bed, isn't he; with that cold sore on his lip and his whiskey dick and inability to show affection, right? Yeah, he's fantastic, so you stick with him. You've invested all this time into the guy that you don't even stop to consider the possibility of wanting something else, even when you head over to The Most Romantic Person in the World's house to talk to him for two hours before skipping off to bed with aforementioned douchebag. I employ you to take a step back and realize that supposedly being so sure of what you want does not include the desire and need to hang out with the one person whom you have so hastily rejected before. You capricious character, you. In a short amount of time following, you find that you're spending far more time with Dr. Romance and you've got an ever-decreasing desire to speak of Professor Tool's teachings. You see, now is when doing what you want to do is reflecting fraudulently on what you claimed you wanted. Uh oh.
Next comes the quirky date. Sure you've had dinner together before, you've gone on faux dates and he's expressed his undying love for you many times already. But the quirky date isn't your ordinary day spent together. I personally recommend getting commissioned to perform a favor for a local artist who's signed on for too much art, and taking over her responsibility to carve an ice sculpture for the Skinny Pancake on the warmest day in February on Church Street. No pun intended here, but this is a great way to break the ice. When people ask you how you got the gig of carving an ice sculpture for the Skinny Pancake on the warmest day in February on Church Street, I recommend you recite the following line: "Somebody lied to somebody else and now we are here carving this ice sculpture." You may find that throughout the day, you're incapable of doing anything displeasing to you. This, my friend, means that you are growing. To carve an ice sculpture and pretend you've done it a million times before, and then to walk away and throw your carving tools to the ground and say "I'm over this" is not an attitude that perhaps you could have had before meeting The Most Romantic Person in the World. Perhaps by this quirky date you are realizing that this man is having an impact on you and your life, and not just any impact, but brace yourself, a positive one. The day of this quirky date is your day, and no one else's, so put road cones in your parking spot and don't let anyone rain on your Winter Carnival.
The next step is a big one, so make sure you're completely ready for it, lest you end up with premature ejaculation and big penises that have gone far too soft. Now it's time to go to bonetown and you can't decide if you want to pack a change of clothes or if your stay will be a short one. Your expectations are high and you've been anticipating the sex from day one. You've taken your time with this one, as it's apparent that he's not like the rest, and the buildup is excruciating. He puts it in and *pop,* the condom snaps, unbeknownst to you and The Most Romantic Person in the World. You continue with the escapade only to be unsatisfied when the whole experience is over only moments after it began and you're both left frustrated and embarrassed. Don't worry, my friend, your time will come only a short 24 hours later. Your Day After Pill kicks romance to the curb and you find yourself fucking like jackrabbits, moans echoing with your head pressed against a wall as you think to yourself that this could be the best lay you've had in ages. This is the sex you were waiting for, right? YES! Don't stop because you're sore; he's still going and deep down you're loving him for it! Don't think about that other guy you thought you loved, because right now you're packin' eight inches and you ain't changing clothes tomorrow 'cause you're gonna be a naked muse all day long. While your insides are hurting, girl, you're looking up into the sky with your fingers dug deep into his bare back, thanking the Gods above for blessing this man with skill, rhythm, and sizable tools with which to make sweet, sweet music. To this situation, I say that if you're going to take a moment to think about the supposedly great sex you had with your ostensible number one last week, think only of how it was no better than getting yourself off with a bobby pin in comparison to this.
So now you've done it. Penis in vagina and enough moaning to start an avalanche. Everything changes now, right? Wrong. The Most Romantic Person in the World is not that kinda guy, mind you. He's sensitive, passionate, and considerate. The following day may be filled with hand kisses and hair brush-backs, which you may remember before as being turnoffs to you. You may find yourself with an inner fear that if this man treats you like a princess, you'll only act like Queen Bitch when you tell him to lay off and stop making you feel like such a frilly jackass. But this fear is only on the inside. In fact, on the outside, you're handling it quite well, and you haven't yet had an urge to scream a safe word and run frantically in the other direction. Since you don't have to worry about offending him, you know that you could get out at any moment, yet you choose not to. By the end of the day he's stolen you a $200 dress from Macy's, and worry not that you'll never figure out the perfect occasion to wear it; he's already got that planned. You choose to answer your phone when he calls to tell you that you're going on a dinner date and he requests you bring said dress but don't wear it. Perhaps you're confused and perhaps you hate surprises just like I do, but again, I encourage you not to worry; The Most Romantic Person in the World didn't get his name by being cheesy or inconsistent. Trust his instincts. Shave your legs, straighten your hair, and meet him at his house at 7:30 sharp. Bring the dress, but don't wear it. You'll be pleasantly surprised and robbed of all words when you emerge from the bathroom at his North Ave. studio space wearing your new black dress and turn the corner to find a table for two set perfectly in a room painted black, complete with a rose in a Pepsi bottle, a radio sitting atop a step ladder playing light classical music, and a burrito with your name on it placed perfectly on a plate. He's holding your chair our for you now, so give the man a little credit and sit down across from him. I can tell you're looking in his eyes and seeing someone who's just done for you what nobody has ever had the guts or determination to do. It's a little early for Valentine's Day, but he wishes you a happy one anyway, and you sit down, hands shaking, mind blown, heart exploding.
You're both artists, albeit of a different kind, so the next day is one of a collaborative effort for an undeniably important cause. It's the eve of a close friend's birthday dinner, and a live work of art is in order, your involvement pivotal. You spend the whole day clearing the studio space of last night's romantic dinner for two and make way for the romantic food fight for twenty to come only hours from now. You're not typically someone who's worked with others before to make successful works of art, but you drive the beat-down stick shift truck around town all day with him, holding pinkies while you shift from second to third and band together to make this art piece happen the way you both feel it should. By the end of the day, the space is set with sixteen places, stolen candlelight, and wall lights that work as the perfect complement. The secret's been kept on the tips of your tongues all day and come 6:30 PM, it's time to hold hands with the person next to you, say grace, give a toast, and chuck the nearest handful of pink, blue, purple mashed potatoes into the face of whoever you please. The work of art goes off without a hitch, spending all day preparing something beautiful with the sole intention of covering it all with cream pies and balsamic vinaigrette. You've officially created something magnificent together, and not only that, you've done it gorgeously. Pat yourself on the back, because when you look at him only moments later, you may find yourself dying to kiss him were he not covered in mustard.
That night you'll probably feel as though you've run a marathon, and now that it's over you can finally relax and not have any burdens of further tasks. Pour yourselves some vodka-frescas and sit back, listen to some music and discuss life's ups and downs. He'll look at you as though you are a goddess, and everything you say will impress him. Again, this is not something you're used to enjoying, but I urge you not to be judgmental. Let him love you, because you've been connected via pinky finger to him for three consecutive days now, and you're scared to admit that you haven't disliked a single minute of it. Your intimidation has worn, your shrewdness has shriveled into nothing bigger than a soggy marshmallow, and for the first time, you're reciprocating his admiring stares. You might find yourself overwhelmed with feelings of contentment and satisfaction, which I advise you don't ignore. You might want to kiss him every time you look at him with his wet hair and western button-up, which I advise you do if you indeed feel so inclined. You might find yourself loving every word that escapes your mouth because they all feel honest for the first time, so I advise you to keep talking and keep opening yourself up to him; he's not going to carve out your insides and run out the door should you expose them to him. He's loving your every utterance, your every song, your every move, your every curve, and you're finally letting him without fear of tripping over yourself and landing ass-down on his heart as it bursts underneath you. You can't deny to me that his touch isn't finally sending chills up your spine, that his tongue sliding gently across your lips isn't making your pleasure senses explode like fireworks, that his voice isn't making your knees weak. Don't back off and pretend that his attention to detail and fancy to listen to your encyclopedia of stories isn't making you feel like your body is overflowing with excitement, which you try to contain as you lift your glass to your lips and take another sip. Lady, don't for a second in time think that you're so cool that you can't look The Most Romantic Person in the World in the eye and tell him you've fallen hard for him; he's made it practically impossible! I know it's there now, so I close this instruction manual of unthinkable love with the notion that if you have obeyed these instructions in your own creative way, you will succumb to what you really wanted to feel the whole time. If you follow these steps, I promise you that at the end of that final day, he will whisper "I love you" into your ear, and you will look up into his eyes and say "I love you too," and the best part, my friend, is that you will mean it.