There is a store in the San Fernando Valley that I consider high on my list of romantic places because it used to bring me close to the man I love. Whenever I step into it and smell the peculiar aromas, my heart skips a beat and thirty years.
A friend of mine divorced her husband shortly after a trip to Provence. “There I was in paradise,” she said, “and I realized I was in paradise with the wrong person.” Secular paradise only exists in the company of the right person.
It’s the company combined with the place that makes a particular site ‘romantic’, which is why there will always be room for you. Charles will be river boating on the Thames, Mona will be on the Riviera and Clive and Anja, the Shelley/Keats devotees, will be standing before their graves just inside the walls of Rome, I’ll be where I always am, and that’s a secret.