The 1987 classic Moonstruck staring Cher and Nicolas Cage has got to be one of my all time favorite movies, mostly for scene in which Ronny Cammareri professes to Loretta:
I love you. Not like they told you love is, and I didn’t know this either, but love don’t make things nice – it ruins everything. It breaks your heart. It makes things a mess. We aren’t here to make things perfect. The snowflakes are perfect. The stars are perfect. Not us. Not us! We are here to ruin ourselves and to break our hearts and love the wrong people and die. The storybooks are bullshit. Now I want you to come upstairs with me and get in my bed!
Oh, how I secretly wish to hear those same words pour from the mouth of some ruggedly handsome butcher or baker or candlestick maker. But don’t call me a romantic – not just yet.
Because my other favorite quotes include:
Ronny: I love you.
Loretta: Snap out of it!
Johnny: In time, you’ll see that this is the best thing.
Loretta: In time, you’ll drop dead and I’ll come to your funeral in a red dress!
Ah ha – yes. There is something refreshing, like a Mint Julep on an August afternoon in Southern Louisiana, about honesty in love. Does it exist? Is it possible for two people madly in love with each other to be honest? Sure. Well, maybe. Is it possible for them to be honest with themselves? Now, that’s the question!
A question I’ve unfortunately not always answered in with the affirmative.
In the past, I’ve made two of the biggest happiness-annihilating relationship blunders:
1. I’ve compromised my virtues, not my vices. Compromise is at the foundation of any relationship, but in a good relationship, you should only compromise on your bad habits, never your good ones.
2. I’ve viewed my lover’s vices as virtues. This one is tricky, especially for those of us perpetual optimists who try to find the best in every situation. Still, I’ve found myself not just forgiving my lover for his imperfections, I’ve actually turned them into something positive, for example: He’s so grounded, I really need someone to anchor me and stop me from chasing all of my crazy dreams. Ugh. I hate that I really said that.
I’m not rushing into love again. I’m holding out. Call me a fool (or some twisted romantic) I’m holding out for honesty. I don’t want perfection – no snowflake lover for this girl. So go ahead, tell me how wrong we are for each other, how much it doesn’t make sense for us to feel this attraction, but we can’t deny it’s presence. Tell me how you didn’t see it coming. How it’s the wrong place, wrong time, and there is no way I fit into your plans, because I doubt you fit into mine.
Tell me I am crazy. That my life is a mess and I need to seriously reconsider how I manage my finances. Tell me I suck at being domestic and can’t make a frozen pizza without burning myself. Tell me I am bossy and flaky and drive around with my foot on the clutch. Tell me I’m never on time and the only reason I think I have a good sense of direction is because I never really care when or if I reach a specific destination. Tell me I drink too much and swear like a sailor and never keep my phone on or return calls. Tell me I make you crazy, but you are addicted to my coffee and cherry lip-gloss flavored kisses. Tell me I hog the bathroom and hog the covers. Tell me I spend way too much money on organic vegan lotions, but you can’t stop touching me. Tell me you can’t stand to live with me, but you don’t even remember how to live without me anymore.
Just don’t tell me I have pretty eyes. I hate cliches. Everyone has pretty eyes.