Sarah and her beau, Reid might make one of my favorite couples ever. Both of them are such a great time individually, but together, they make life fantastic for each other and everyone who has the pleasure of spending time with them.
I thought it would be interesting to hear from both of them, and am so grateful they both chose to participate!
Isn't it fun to hear both sides of the story?
Disclaimer: You will likely cry. I did.
Sarah
To start, I would like to proclaim that I may be one of the least romantic people in the country. No matter how hard Reid tries to be suave, or overly sweet, or anything bordering on "romantic," I laugh uncontrollably.
While I am certainly emotional, I am miserable at being sentimental. It is not in my genetic code. I think it stems from childhood. For instance, on birthdays, Reid and his family send each other sweet, thoughtful cards with personal notes saying how much they care about one another. My family sends the ones with pictures of old men farting and/or squirrels making obligatory nut jokes.
Still, even with my missing romantic DNA, he seems to love me anyway and does sweet things all the time.
A few months ago I was in one of those stress spirals--the apartment was a mess, work was insane, some portion of my family was driving me crazy, I had no clean underwear, and zero time to fix any of it. Reid came home to find me speaking loudly on the phone while picking bits of aluminum foil out of the carpet (remnants of our dog's garbage-can feast from earlier that day). Not truly comprehending the "stress spiral," he waits for me to get off the phone and, in his most upbeat voice, begins to tell me that his mom is coming over.
In half an hour.
For dinner.
I did not take the news well.
"The apartment is a mess!"
"We don't have any food!"
"I have too much work to do!"
"THERE IS ALUMINUM FOIL EVERYWHERE!!"
Reid quickly assessed the situation and saw it was a no win--I think he finally saw the crazy in my eyes. After I ranted a bit he told me I shouldn't worry. He would take his mom to dinner solo and let me be.
So he left.
And I stewed a bit.
Then, about a half an hour later, he came home...with pizza, red wine, and flowers. Anyone who knows me, knows those are my favorite things in the world--in that order. It turns out he had called his mom, told her it wasn't a good night, and immediately went to the store.
I completely didn't expect any of it.
After I put the flowers in a vase, we sat down and had one of those great, long leisurely dinners. We just talked, ate, and laughed about how bad our dog was. It was simple, perfect, and absolutely what I needed.
I feel like we generally treat each other well; however, this night, when I was about to go over the edge
--and I wasn't being very nice about it--
He really made the effort. So it stands out.
And just gives me one more reason to be really happy I found him.
Reid
My girlfriend Sarah believes she is without true "romanticism." Sure she can be loving and she always says very nice things to me, and sympathizes with me when I need it, but when it comes to romanticism she believes she is devoid of it.
Upon hearing this I was initially inclined to agree with her.
After all, she can't have me near her neck or ear without giggling uncontrollably and her immediate response any time I want to stand outside and look at the stars is typically, "I'm cold, let's go inside."
Still, over our 4 years together Sar's been far more romantic than she actually thinks.
My definition of romance extends beyond our most polished intimate moments.
Sar and I have had plenty of wonderful dinners together, and I've surprised her with flowers on occasion.
That stuff's easy when you're talking romance.
To me our most romantic moments are the ones that are more unexpected, like the one she chose to write about, or the moments that are far more difficult than buying flowers or going out to dinner.
When my dad died about two and a half years ago it was the most difficult thing I had ever dealt with.
It was very unexpected and he had been one of the two most important people in my life.
I'd never dealt with a death like that, and a lot of responsibilities fell to me to help prepare for memorial services and help my mom emotionally as best as I could.
Sar had known my dad for about a year and a half and they had always gotten along great. Her favorite memories of him always included her walking through the front door and him boisterously going about his business in the kitchen, yelling at political pundits on the TV or watching a game. She enjoyed his goofy nature and says it is something she sees in me all of the time.
Because Sar had immediately become so close to my small family she became as much a part of the process of helping my mom after his death as I was.
She helped sort through belongings and files, helped set up the memorial services and even did up the entire program for the big service we had that November in Connecticut, where I grew up.
She was also my biggest emotional outlet, the one person I went to so I could vent and release my anger/frustration/heartbreak.
About a week before the Connecticut service Sarah became extremely ill, and was exhausted emotionally, mentally and physically.
Now, Sar gets sick a lot, but I actually don't think I've ever seen her worse than she was during that week.
Still, on top of being sick, she was going into work and attending grad school. Add to it that she was finalizing the memorial program and dealing with tons of edits from my mother (who is a notorious perfectionist) and you get an idea of how crazy her life was.
I, on the other hand, was leaving her a couple of days before the service to head up to Connecticut to make certain arrangements and to do the set up. Sar was left with the task of not only polishing the program, but getting it made up at Kinkos, picking up our friends Sarah and Kyle outside of DC and driving the 4 to 5 hours from Alexandria, VA to Connecticut the morning of the service.
To top it all off, she was as sick as she had been all week during the drive up on the day of the service.
So what did Sarah do throughout the week and into the weekend?
She never complained once.
She did everything that was asked of her and more.
She drove the entire 4 to 5 hour stretch to Connecticut (she hates driving) and joined my family for a pre-service gathering amongst ourselves before sitting through hours of emotional speeches about my father and the party afterwards.
She held my hand throughout, comforted me constantly and generally just operated in the background helping in any way that she could.
Oh, and she looked stunning the whole time, in spite of barely being able to eat or drink.
Finally, at about midnight, she quietly asked me to help her get back to the house we were staying at so she could get some rest, all the while doing everything she could to not distract from the service or "Irish wake" type party afterwards.
My point is this; a lot of what I describe above doesn't necessarily fit in with what we think of when we say "romantic."
We think roses and chocolates.
We think of a nice compliment or candle lit dinner.
We think picking up a surprise pizza and bringing home flowers.
I'm thankful Sar thinks so highly of me for doing "romantic" things that are honestly the simplest parts of a relationship.
Yet, it's what she did that was so unique and so difficult.
In doing all of these things out of love for my family and for me, she is by far the most romantic person in our relationship, and I'm very lucky to have her.
