It was Sunday morning, and outside my window sheets of freezing rain were shattering onto the streets below. It was the kind of cold you could hear, and the kind of weather that would wipe the smile off of even the happiest person’s face. I was dragging myself out to pick up something to eat, grumbling as I shuffled out in my giant puffer coat, zipped to the chin with my hood pulled tightly around my head.
Food in hand, I trudged my way back to my apartment, eyes welling up under the onslaught of frozen precipitation attacking my face. I was about to enter my building when something ahead of me stopped me in my tracks.
Just down the block was a couple walking hand in hand. I could barely tell their hands were intertwined, bundled up as they were. They were walking a few feet ahead of where I was, when they stopped and turned to face each other. At this point, I could tell they were on the older side. Through the falling ice in the air, I could just make out the man’s silvery stubble, and the woman’s gently lined face above her thick scarf. What could they be stopping for, I thought to myself, since this was the kind of weather that drove you to seek shelter, not to stop and bask in it. But as their faces drew closer together, I realized it wasn’t the weather they were basking in at all.
It was their love.
Before my eyes, the couple moved together to share a long, slow, sweet kiss under the snowy sky. The man leaned down to meet the woman’s face, her gloved hand reaching up to cup his cheek. In that moment, it appeared that nothing mattered. Not the chunks of icy hail falling around them, not the people moving past them to get to where they were going, and certainly not the slackjawed bystander down the block who could barely believe her eyes. And it was so very beautiful.
The scene before me was so beautiful that I almost wished I’d taken a photo, but it would have ruined not only their moment but mine as well. Because something hit me when I saw that couple kiss that day on the sidewalk:
I want that, too.
I want the kind of love that makes me ignore winter raging around me. I want the kind of love that lasts long past when my skin starts to sag, and the lines on my face mark the experiences I’ve seen and lived. I want the kind of love that makes people stop and stare. And I want the kind of love that makes other people want love too.
One of the best things about being single, especially the older you get, is that you’ve had the time, and grown the sense, to finally start to figure out what you really want when it comes to love. As jaded as I may get, it’s moments like these that remind me that there is a point to all the insanity that is modern romance. These realizations are what make all the bad dates, the ghosting guys and the overall frustration feel like they were worth something. They’re a reminder not to settle, but to stick it out, because the only thing better than being single and loving it, is the hope that there is a great love out there, that’s worth waiting for.
So thanks for the reminder, sweet snow loving couple. I hope your love is truly as beautiful as it appeared to be that day, and continues to be for the rest of your lives together.