Most people seem to have fallen into the realism camp for love. I guess this is understandable, at least in part. Imperfect relationships, hurt in the past, poor quality of potential mates all drive people to realism, if not all the way to pessimism. I admittedly find myself in the idealist camp more than the pragmatic or realistic camps, in general anyway. But I can see how they get there, and I have been tempted to move there myself.
No, I am not so blind nor foolish to think that love between two human beings can be perfect; perfection can not result from two imperfect people. Neither am I so cynical to think that love exists solely for utilitarian purposes and should be passionless as we see in so many relationships.
But then, my heart refuses to believe that love is anything less than a fairytale. Really, if it is, I would rather be alone. “Ordinary love” isn’t worth having. We do, however, seem to have a problem.
We aren’t characters in a fairytale. Well, not that we can tell anyway. The problem is that we try to identify with a particular fairytale. We aren’t Snow White or Prince Charming. We aren’t Rapunzel or the Prince (or Flynn Rider/Eugene Fitzherbert if you watched Tangled [which you need to if you haven’t]). We aren’t Belle or the Beast. We are ourselves.
The world has already read and seen the love of these lovers. What should it have need of seeing them again? Our fairytale has yet to be written. Our fairytale is ours to write. I believe a divine outline exists, but we must fill in the story. Why should we find need to emulate the love of another couple when we can create a fairytale of our own to leave the world’s mouths agape?
We shouldn’t is the easy answer. Let our love soar above the dispassionate drek of “ordinary love” like sky lanterns over placid waters. Let our love make the sun cool, the stars dim, and diamonds dull. Let our love be such that our beloved comes to be greater in our heart than the vastness of the universe. Let our love make “happily ever after” insufficient, shouting the inability of even the most beautiful fairytales and their words to paint a love like we have. After all, true fairytales are written in moments, not words.