In a Theater Near You...

I've always been a sucker for a happy ending love story. Those movies or books with the one pivotal moment that makes you gasp and cry and laugh all at once. The swelling music. The couple that meet each other in the rain for a kiss so perfect it breaks your heart. And even though I usually savor every word and purposeful shy glance, I always left the theater with a small twinge of “yeah right”. Shut the book thinking, “it's fiction, obviously”. I always had a small fear that these incandescent feelings, these breathless words between lovers were manufactured niceties strung together by some clever writer. Emotions acted by talented people who, once the scene was over, would return to their personal misery. Their lonely heartbreaks. Because real rapturous love couldn't possibly be true. Not in this world. Not in this girl. I'd seen too much deception for one lifetime. Had my heart trampled on until it was unrecognizable. Tasted the bitterness of betrayal.

Besides, isn't it the unspoken rule that one should turn up her nose at such a possibility? Scandalous love stories are fairytales devoured by the weak, right? It seems to be more accepted to talk about love with disdain than with hope - at least for a single girl. Or maybe that was another way of fooling myself into doubting its existence.

Enter Ryan Illingworth.

And no, I don't want to say that now I know perfect kisses do exist. I don't want to tell you that real rapturous love does happen without the aid of directors and screenwriters and novelists. I don't want reveal the elusive Mr. Darcy as a possibility. Because I know it probably won't ring true. I know for most, it might sound hollow or boring or even threatening. I know that to gush about one's love is often to the dismay of others. But why? If we celebrate true love on the screen, shouldn't we celebrate its true existence? Shouldn't we praise the idea of actual people walking around experiencing real love?

Wherever you stand, and whatever you've been through, I cannot deny…..it exists. True love. Movie love. Mr. Freakin' Darcy love. I've found it.

I've found someone who loves me so quietly my ears ring. Who loves me so profoundly I'm struck silent. Who wears his heart on his sleeve but is stronger than I've yet to see. A man who serves me without motive, dotes without pretense and gazes without suspicion. Who constantly surprises me and alarms me and fills me with outrageous screaming hilarious love.

And yes, I've only been married for five months. I'm still wearing blinders, right? I hope not. I hope I always look at Ryan and feel the wonder that I do today. I hope I always run to meet him when he comes home. I hope I never tire of his face or his stories or his shy laugh.

I hope I always feel his kiss on my shoulder in the middle of the night.