The most legendary love stories do their best to document a man and a woman's struggle to deal with a conflict or overcome a formidable tragedy. Romeo and Juliet had feuding families to handle (which didn't really work out for them). Rapunzel was stuck in a freaking tower. Princess Aurora had an evil witch's spell to contend with. I had to dog-sit on the first evening that Kyle asked me to accompany him to a concert.
Like most real love stories, ours doesn't pretend to be more than what it was. Meeting for the first time at a bar since seeing each other briefly as children, I noticed that he and I shared the same cell phone. We conversed for a moment or two about that coincidence, then went on our way.
After that, we saw each other more often, since we had mutual friends. After a couple of weeks, Kyle called. “I know it's last minute, but I just got two tickets to the Bruce Springsteen concert at Shea tomorrow night. I know you had said that you like music, so I was just wondering if you wanted to go. You know... with me.”
“I would love to! Oh wait- crap. I'm supposed to go over and feed my family friend's dog that night. What time?”
We went back and forth, trying to figure out how I could do both, but it was no use.
Either Lucky was going to starve, or The Boss was going to have one less fan that evening.
I regretfully hung up the telephone in the kitchen and frowned at my mom, who was wiping down the counter, pretending not to listen. “What happened?”
I relayed the sad story to her, and she nodded. “You know, if you drop your little sister off at the house to take care of the pup, I'll pick her up later on.”
“Do you think she'd do that?” I asked as excitedly as a 14-year old girl who'd just made JV cheerleading.
“Just tell her you'll give her 10 bucks. She's fifteen- do you really think she has other plans?”
Mom was right. Maggie eagerly accepted the offer to hang out at the Smith's house for a couple hours in exchange for enough cash to buy several packs of Topps trading cards (she was always a bit of a tomboy).
Now I only had to be concerned about the date itself:
What would we talk about? What were his intentions? Most importantly, what would I wear?
Fast forward to that sublime night, October 3, 2003... My memory is a little fuzzy (mostly due to the bottle of Captain Morgan that we were sharing prior to the concert), but I remember talking in the car without pause as we sat in two hours worth of traffic on the way into Shea Stadium, stopping at a pizza place for a emergency pit stop, burning a hole into the roof of his (brand new) car with a cigarette, turning around to kiss him during “Born to Run,” screaming, laughing, and dancing with the rest of the crazy fans, driving into the city to take a carriage ride through central park, and falling completely, ridiculously, stupidly in love.
So, there it is- a Valentine's love story. Though it lacks some of the obstacles and the intrigue that are present in some of the more renowned classics, ours is the greatest romance to me. I'm able to look back and BE in those moments that I consider some of the best in my life.
Love does not have to be difficult. Love does not have to forever be a compromise. And with real-life love, there needn't be any witches, trolls, or fairy godmothers.
And love, as I have come to find out, is beyond definition.
So, what is your love story? I'd love to know- either comment or share a link to a post about it!