Just the other day, I found myself listening to 80s Love Songs on Pandora Internet Radio. I listened willingly, believe it or not. That may sound corny coming from a guy, but because I was chained down in a terrible relationship for many years, I created a coping mechanism to handle my misery: My fantasy image of the perfect girl that I built on the foundation of every sappy, love song ever written. Even though I listened to them all the time, I honestly hated every single one of them. They all sucked, and they all lied.
I immersed myself deep in my fantasy through every melody and every lyric that I hated. I played them over and over again until my perfect girl trance took full effect. Once I reached my Utopia, I saw her: She was a tight-jean wearing, petite strawberry blonde, sexy young girly-girl with a tramp-stamp on her back. However, every love song and every bubble-gum lyric I heard only cradled my misery. My fantasy girl never came knocking at my door to whisk me away.
Five years ago, in 2009, I was newly divorced and couldn’t wait to finally meet the fantasy sapp, love song, dream girl that I envisioned. I immediately set up a Facebook account to find her. While rummaging through some old photos to post online and boost my chances, I came across a photo from 1986 of me and a cute blonde girl. I spent a few days debating whether I should post it – I wasn’t Facebook friends with her and I didn’t even remember her name. I posted it anyway and almost immediately a mutual friend tagged her. We became Facebook friends that very day.
When we finally met in person again, I convinced myself right away that she was wasn’t the type of woman that would interest me. In fact, she was a rough-edged, biker-esque, all-about-the-bass, Amazon-tall, tomboy man-woman that was nothing like my sappy love song vision. However, by the end of the evening, her captivating personality seduced me. Her snarky, comedic, off the wall humor captivated me. And her honest, down to earth, black and white opinions gripped me. Immediately, she balanced me. It felt so strange, but it felt so exciting! I was confused. But it felt so right.
After a couple more dates, I realized without a doubt that my sappy, love song vision was flawed. Clearly, the girl who was the complete opposite of my fantasy vision was The One—my true Soul Mate. I had no doubt. I fell hard. A few months later, I formulated my proposal plan and committed myself to something I hadn’t done since I was in my 20’s: write my own sappy, love song. I hated it and loved it. It was perfect.
I easily came up with the tune “Better Than a Starbucks High”. I played my guitar and sang my song in front of a group of baristas and customers at the local Starbucks and asked her to marry me. A video of my sappy, love song proposal was promptly posted on the Internet. I didn’t care if my song was good or bad. I didn’t care that I sang out of tune. I wanted the entire world to know that I found The One and I was in love. There was no other way for me to say it.
*Watch my proposal here:
We married later that year, and I can honestly say that it was the happiest day of my life. To my delight, the stereotypical marriage ditty “I’ll Be” by Edwin McCain became the sappy, love song theme of our wedding. To this day, I get teary-eyed every time I hear it.
I learned a lot over the past five years. I learned that expectations are usually far-fetched, incorrect, and unobtainable. I learned that the perfect relationship may just be the opposite of what is envisioned. I learned the perfect person was not who I expected.
Today, I really love every single one of those damn sappy, love songs I once hated. Now, they all sound beautiful. Every single one is created straight from the soul.
Photo: ©Dave Pacailler All Rights Reserved