the cheese platter

Haven't been cheesy in a while (or have I?), but it's nice to talk about lovey stuff when you've spoken about so many cynical and heartsore moments in the past.

Cheesiness once in a while warms the cockles. Cynical stuff makes my heart go hard and I get depressed. So while in the moment – let's talk cheesy. Also it's Friday. And after a long week, my brain hurts.

Relationships aren't easy things, as idealistic as they are. They take work, compromise, sacrifice, compassion, communication and a lot of love. The latter is what it's all worth working for. Love doesn't happen everyday to everybody – hell, it saddens me to know that there are some people in the world who'll never experience love at all.

It hurts like a bitch too – but love really is an incredible thing. That you can take two people, in any one place who will meet, and 9 times out of 10 never speak again. The one odd – the one – is that the two actually connect there and then. Maybe a tenth of an odd that they'll actually fall in love. A twentieth of a chance thereafter – will the love last, will the two be compatible forever after? Will they be able to ride the storms? If they can – like 80-year couples who are still together – then wow. It's very rare these days. But not impossible. Which is why even though I am tormented by constant hang-ups, I know they can be softened. I am in love after all. And that is what makes life whole.

It's worth the risk if it brings happiness, right?

Shit this is cheesy.

Anyway, there are things I love about a relationship or being close to someone. End-of-the-day phonecalls, emails while you work, having someone's feet touching yours at the end of the bed, kissing and all the physical stuff, and sharing personal jokes.
Laughter is so important – I've heard that from lots of people lately. “We're doing great, we laugh at each other all the time,” or “Thank God she makes me laugh.” Or even, “He actually laughs at my pirate joke, no one has done that before.” That kind of crap. Laughter is a big one.

Love is also for the brave. You have to open up, you can't not. (Usually I find it hard to hold it all in – but I'm more cautious now.) If you don't open up, you don't experience it full-throttle. And what's the point doing it in half-measures?

It may leave a big gaping wound if it ends though, which will make the room spin, and you'll want to vomit and you'll cry for a while and drink shitloads of alcohol, but it's all worth it.

Right, no more Lionel Richie for me.

PS: I mean Lionel Richie and a glass of wine.