The jangling nerves, the bouncing butterfliesand that thunderbolt that hits right in the pit of your stomach when you realize the big event is less than five minutes away.
From childhood, young girls are told that finding romantic satisfaction is the key to contentment. From perky pop music to classical paintings, our collective human culture is saturated with stories of courtship, romance, and love both lost and found. Sweet serenades and courtly carriage rides are replaced by slurred come-ons and early-morning walks of shame. Coitus often comes before courtship, and if you feel fireworks when you touch each other, you should probably go get tested at Student Health. Not to mention the fact that a lively game of beer pong — while fun in its own right — is not nearly as conducive to romance as most guys seem to think it is.
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Suffice it to say, the University of Casual Sex and Beer may not be the best environment for that quaint concept known as romance, not mention the even quainter idea of courtship. But, after three years of living and learning the ways of collegiate courtship, I knew not to hold my breath for any Disney-esque romantic displays. My boyfriend is an incredibly intelligent, thoughtful, considerate, and kind man.
And yet, we managed to make it almost a full month before embarking on anything that could even be called a conventional date. There were just too many other things to do with our time and money.
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And although we had been to movies, concerts, and many a party togethernone of it was quite like the candlelit dinners of my childhood dreams. Of course, when we finally did do the whole candlelit dinner thing, it was fantastic.
It was everything a girl raised on a steady diet of fairy-tales and romantic comedies could have hoped for. But, as amazing as it was, I have to admit that there was something just a little bit strange about seeing my laidback lover all gussied up and gazing into my eyes over a dimly lit table.
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Gone were the pizzas and beer, the loud roommates and bad T. Gone were the distractions of our daily lives. It was just the two of us. And although it was really nice, it felt just a bit affected after years of telling myself that candlelit dinners were best left to enamored puppies with big plates of spaghetti and meatballs.
Still, there was something special — dare I say, magical — about being able to tune out everything else and just spend some alone time with the guy I adore.
At least until his roommate started calling to see when he would be home to party. Suddenly, our illusions of intimacy were gone.
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After we got home, he went out with his friends and I went out with mine, and in classic I. As we cuddled under the covers after doing things no good Disney heroine would, the sweet symphony of shouting and soused socialization from next door filled the room. Please note this is to submit events or press releases.
Use this here to for your Independent subscription. Username or Address. Remember Me. Candlelit dinner But, as amazing as it was, I have to admit that there was something just a little bit strange about seeing my laidback lover all gussied up and gazing into my eyes over a dimly lit table. Add to Favorites.
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