I think this will pretty much sum up my feelings on grand romantic gestures…
But I don’t really like the idea of using them to win your affection. Or to win it back.
I do like the idea of using them, maybe, to remind you.
Just to remind you.
That there’s a reason you turn to me when things are at their worst.
That there’s a reason that you want to dance with me when things are awesome.
That you know, down deep, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am the best one.
The very best one.
Man, I hope I never have to convince you of that. I hope I never have to sell you on me.
I want you to know. I need you to know. That everyone else on the planet is playing for second.
And that you are just never going to let them in the game.
I hope that you see the things I do. For you. For others. I hope you see those things and that you’re proud – honoured even – to get to call me yours.
And if you do, well, if you do, that’s when the magic happens.
I hope it is never a question for you, you know?
I hope you realize that I’ll take a damn bullet for you, babe.
I hope you know that I’m not perfect, but nobody is going to work harder to get as close as possible.
Nobody is going to work as hard for you.
I really hope I never need a grand romantic gesture to win you over.
But I’m sure as hell going to do them anyway.
Because I want to.
I so want to.
I’m going to make a regular Tuesday night so much fun that your cheeks hurt from smiling. I’m going to make birthdays spectacular. I’m going to make Christmases ridiculously festive. I’m going to make New Years Eve kisses weaken your knees.
I’m going to make a proposal absolutely fucking legendary.
I can’t have you doubting, even for a second… well, anything.
I’m going to do them because I maybe briefly let myself forget something that I’ve known all along.
That you should just never, ever stop wooing.
And I won’t do it again.
I get it.
It’s not all about the grandness of the grand romantic gesture – though that is important – it’s about the knowing. The knowing what will mean the most to you. The paying attention. The remembering. The time. The effort.
Never wavering effort.
I need you to know that at the end of our run, when we have shuffled off this mortal coil, that I’ll have left it all on the field for you. There’ll be no more arrows left in my quiver.
I will love you passionately, wildly, unrelentingly, stupidly and beautifully.
Yeah, my dear, I don’t want to perform a grand romantic gesture to win you, or win you back.
I want to do it because I already have you and, my God, that is something I’ll never stop celebrating.