First true romance I ever read was Jane Eyre. Quite typical to say the least. Mostly in family library there was only classical russian drama and science fiction, so Bronte’s book really stood out. One of the first books where I remember I started to get a whiff what a relationship was at all.
The romance line was bizzare, and the older I was getting I more messed up I found it. However, one aspect of the main love-line I adored – the talks between the two main characters. They talked almost every evening never running out of topics, two equal intelligent creatures inspite of class difference, talking talking talking, about the most trivial and peculiar. For months and months all they had was talks. I honestly didn’t care will they end up together or not, because they already had the best – a partner, an equal to talk to, to stimulate the brain, to share the bizzare ideas, to be intersting sitting next to you, just be there.
Though I never was a person to want serious relationship, marriage, kids and all those “adult” things, the one thing i might request from universe is somebody who’s there to talk to, a soulmate of a brain kind, to just be there and talk about everything and nothing.
Celebrating an anniversary of sorts with a person by my side, it might just be that i found a Rochester (not literally, otherwise I would require some serious therapy… well, more therapy). Sometimes it seems that talking as fast as we can is all we do (keeping it #PG). And again I honestly couldn’t possibly care to what it might evolve, because I’m already in a happy place – we talk as fast as we can about everything and nothing.