Somewhere I read that there are six people in your lifetime in this world that you can truly be in love with. Can that be true?
I’ve never professed to be an expert on women and I certainly would never begin to make decisions or predictions in their behalf. And, I won’t make decisions in behalf of the male gender either, but being of the old-hairy-legged legions I make some assumptions and observations about our all too often blindly proud group.
So, “in love” has to, in simple terms, be someone about whom you have romantic notions. Alright, down boys, I mean marrying, lifelong romantic notions, not primal urges. Sheesh! Can’t have a normal discussion with old hairy-legged boys, so y’all just read along while I put forth these notions to the wimminfolk.
There are all kinds of love besides getting down to the serious business of long-term commitment.
First there’s puppy love, crushes and celebrity craziness.
Puppy love is that very first love, usually before you can even date. Maybe you can meet in the park and hold hands.
Yeah, I know, that sounds naive. You want to know when do we get down to being serious business and swapping slobber.
The first time I kissed a girl was in elementary school, at my own birthday party and we played spin the bottle. The bottle pointed to Gwen and I had to give her a peck on the cheek in front of 15 kids. Boy, was I red-faced.
My next “romantic adventure” was with Judi. We met at the Star Theater and held hands. Aw, shucks.
Judi and I became great friends over the years and had the kind of relationship where, when we were home from college, one would call the other and ask, “You have a date?” “Nope.” “Okay, wanna go dancing?” “Yep.” Judi was a great dancer and a better musician and vocalist. If we went to a nearby night club, the house band would end up asking her to sing a few numbers and I lost my date for the evening.
I loved my friend Judi for 50 years, right up until the day she died.
In high school, there was the “older woman,” Barbara, a grade ahead of me although only five months older. That was the first experience with real love…the kind where you want to be together all the time and can’t stand it when you aren’t. She graduated and went off to Dallas to work. Things were okay until I graduated the next year, went to college and amongst the parties and good times, I took that working girl for granted. She got married. There’s always a special spot for that first real love.
Then, there was Martha Lou, a classmate and a great dancer. We had the same arrangement as Judi and I. “Got a date?” “Nope.” “Dance?” “Yep.” And, the people at the club would clear the dance floor, watch us jitterbug and pitch coins on the floor.” Went home with expenses paid and sometimes enough left to jingle in my jeans pocket. We did the same thing in college, although less frequently because there were new worlds to conquer for each of us.
We still communicate. I love Martha Lou.
Then, I tried the fantasy world, dating a Miss Texas, two Miss Houstons and Miss Galena Park (she was sweeter, prettier, smarter and more down to earth than all those bigger crowns).
Once I got married because I thought I needed to be married. Finished college. Got a job. Needed to be a family man. It was a terrible thing to do to her. After 14 years, two kids and driving everyone nuts, I launched as a single dude again.
What’d I do? Married the first beautiful thing that twitched her hips just right. Luv. No, not really but it began with an “l” and had a “u” in it. Four years and kaput.
Stayed single. Matured some. Grew a lot.
Finally I discovered what real, meaningful, lasting, dazzling, bell-ringing, star-seeing, unbridled love was.
It was all the romantic stuff mixed with intellectual attraction and tastes for all kinds of things from books to faraway places. Hold hands. Play kissy face. Thirty years later, we’ve returned from exploring yet another part of the world.
Thank God I found the real thing. I didn’t know what I was missing. Hope yours is something close to this. Enjoy it. Relish it. Revel in it.
It’s wonderful, this thing called love.
Willis Webb is a retired community newspaper editor-publisher of more than 50 years experience. Webb worked all over Texas during those 50 years.
