hey siri, play date night on repeat.

Ever since we visited Uluru at sunset a couple of years ago, and discovered the advantage of having unobstructed views from the rooftop tent – Z and I have made it somewhat of a thing for our everyday occasions. Find us on new year eve parked up by the boat ramp, cosy amongst pillows and blankets, watching the fireworks without the hassle of crowds, or an iphone on record smack-bam in front of your view. Or on a Sunday afternoon, celebrating an anniversary with fresh takeaway woodoven pizza and a view of the rolling hinterlands hills at sunset.

If I could describe what my favourite kind of date night looks like – it’s these. We may only be 2 metres above ground, but it feels so much more exclusive than that. And the best part is, it feels like we have a view all to ourselves.

On our most recent expedition to One Tree Hill in Maleny for our rooftop dinner, Z and I chatted (rather smugly from our vantage point) about how the rooftop might have just been the best purchase we made for the ute when we first got ‘Pru’ ready for touring. Because it wasn’t just loved in a practical sense, but in a way of gratitude for creating these kind of moments where we get to appreciate not only the view, but us.

This got us talking about date nights in general and the whole “Date your boyfriend/Husband” movement. Already adopted some many years ago, it was something that Z and I routinely tied into our busy lives and made mention of it’s importance.

You see, when relationships are born, they’re enchanting. They gleam with newness and promise, and dopamine finds itself in an overwhelming abundance. They sparkle un-tainted by mistake or pain, and they haven’t witnessed bad days or seasons yet. In a sense, their naivety is their beauty. But just like material things, eventually the newness fades and the gleam dulls a little. Experiences shape the corners of the relationship, and they also shape the people – and no matter how much love is encompassed, it never finds newness again.

But this doesn’t mean it can’t still sparkle.

Material things need to be cared for, and so do relationships. At the risk of sounding exactly like my mother – the saying, ‘if you take care of your things, they will last’ is no more true in a relationship sense. If you continue to make the effort to show each other how much the relationship means to you, then it is inherently felt. If you maintain the feeling of being loved, love is given in return. There’s really no complicated equation to it – it’s simple when it comes down to it. A relationship can always keep its sparkle with a little elbow grease.

So what does elbow grease look like?

It will look different to different couples, so here’s where knowing each other fairly well plays it’s part. 

To Z and me, our elbow grease is small things like bringing over a Panadol and a glass of water when someone has a headache, or giving up the last of the peppermint slice even if it’s your favourite. It’s the long hugs in the kitchen when you get home from work, and the soft touches throughout the day. It’s the enjoyment of seeing the other one happy, even if it comes at a small cost to you…. And it’s a commitment to date night, to continuing to ‘Date your partner’.

Z and I have been together going on 13 years now, and while it’s not always been easy sailing, we’ve managed to savour the sparkle even after all this time. We’ve taken care of us, and made time for each other repeatedly. We’ve made it our priority to make the small things matter, and our time together special. And we will continue to do this for years to come, because our love deserves that.

So here’s to rooftop pizza dates (or similar thereof) until the end of time, because what’s done in love is always done well.

d x