Crazy little thing called love

LOVE, love changes everything. No, it really does and I have the proof.
Until she met her long-haired lover from Falkirk, my friend had a full bodied physical revulsion to the L-word, and anything associated, such as anything pink, fluffy or pretty. This was made especially difficult by the fact the third in our trio was the epitome of pink, fluffy and pretty.
Relating tales of side effects cause by our current love interests or turning even the slightest bit soppy (and I try to keep my external soppiness to a bare minimum) caused her to shout ‘MOOSH’ at the top of her voice
Catching up with her recently, I was amazed how love had changed her, It wasn’t long before she slipped the dread L-word into our conversation, When I say slipped it in, I don’t mean blink and you’ll miss it. This was a definite ‘I love him’ moment, sandwiched by other related ‘moosh’ declarations.
I was incredulous: “Whoa! Did you just say you loved him?” I whispered,
If I hadn’t already been on the floor I would have ended up there, I was expecting a coy ‘erm, eh, well, yeah kinda’ reply. Instead I got a clear-cut Kelly Osbourne ‘ya-ha’ like it was the craziest thing in the world to have to ask.
After realising I knew little about this new-found love of love, it just kept coming. She’d written a song for his birthday, they’d talked about (dum, dum, dum, drum roll) the future, and the worst part of all — she was wearing pink. In public. And liking it.
She’d also found the joy in wearing pretty things like vintage clothing, silk scarves and beautiful shoes, which she’d jibed me about for years.
Oh and it was love at first sight. Cue a well-timed and perfectly proportioned MOOSH!
In the past she was the one I relied on to bring me back to earth when I got too ahead of myself, or saw everything through a pink haze. Now she’s using phrases like ‘how sweet’. And don’t even get me started on Valentine’s Day.
What was happening to me? When did I make the transition from ‘mooshed’ to ‘moosher’?
I do believe in love, and that one day not too far away, before I become even more cynical, someone will utter those three words to me. But maybe I have too high expectations I’d like it to happen like the movies, to be swept off my feet, like in Love Story.
My pre-engaged friend and I were talking about ‘“loveliest’ film moments last night. After the snow scene from Love Story, a close second favourite is Julia telling Hugh: “I’m just a girl, standing in front of a boy, asking him to love her” in Notting Hill.
I’m not sure about violent films breeding violent behaviour in childhood, but I’m sure romantic blockbusters have a lot to do with the disappointment facing singles looking for love; I mean, can you imagine if you actually said that to someone?
Until recently I didn’t think it was possible for it to ‘happen like the movies’. That is until I met the all-singing, all-dancing, all Ivy-league Americans that are Lauren and Michael.
She had natural cheerleader looks: perfect teeth, hair, skin, a winning smile, and a place at a top university.
He was also too good to be true. He had films star looks: perfect teeth, skin winning smile, was slightly older so had already graduated from a top university. He was now a top estate agent, loaded and in love.
Most importantly, they had each other.
They’d been set up by mutual friends at a party, fallen in love at first sight, after a month were engaged, and are now planning a big white wedding, held at her parents’ palatial house on a tree-lined street. And yes it does have a swing on the porch, which is where he proposed while sitting wrapped together in a blanket on a cool night in the fall.
But that’s in America. However, they do say that there is someone for everyone, you just have to get out there and find them, so maybe I’m looking in the wrong country?
They, whoever they may be, do also say that when it’s love, you’ll know.
And so the question of all questions — how do you define love? And what’s the difference between loving someone, and being in love with someone?
Love n: to delight in with exclusive affection.
But take a closer look.
Love n: the score of nothing in games,
This column was brought to you by the letter L and the number one — because I’ve fallen out of love with playing games when the score is ultimately zero.