“I believe there are to ways of writing novels. One is making a sort of musical comedy without music and ignoring real life altogether; the other is going deep down into life and not caring a damn..” P. G.. Wodehouse
“It’s about to get real in here” Anon Y. Mous
Love! We’ve all been there; in and out, and in again. We’ve all had our hearts broken, and yet we come back for more. What would this world be without love? We know babies will not thrive without it, and so it is not surprising the lengths we will go to for it. I’ve found love and all it’s humbling power on my mind a lot this week because of an unexpected phone call last Sunday.
Eight years ago I met a guy out salsa dancing. We clicked right away–that undefinable chemistry we all know so well. Slowly, over the next three years we became friends, going out to eat, dancing, going to a quinceanera, and hanging out together playing pool, listening to music and talking about life. He would show me pictures of the house that he was building in Mexico because he was determined to go back there to his beloved horses and his life there. I greatly admired his intelligence, drive, focus and maturity. In short, a beautiful friendship.
He did return to Mexico, and I missed him and thought of him often. Four or five years went by and one day he found me on Facebook. We exchanged messages from time to time and I was very happy and excited to have heard from him again.
Last Sunday he greeted me on Facebook again. Then asked if he could all me. As if that wasn’t surprise enough, he told me that he loved me, he missed me, and that he had always loved me and always would. He told me that I was the best thing that had ever happened to him. I was speechless. He asked me if I had known that, and I said that I had no idea!
What was surprising was the effect that his declaration had on me. I was happy. It was a wonderful thing to hear from someone whom I had also loved. But hovering around on the edges of my joy was the big question of what happened next. Next being when I came down from my fluffy, pretty cloud and recognized that was a frustrating closed door, and that nothing had changed in my life. What did happen was that I realized was how long it had been since someone in my life had told me things like that, and how much I missed hearing that.
Maybe I’m the lucky one. That love will always be fresh in its vision of perfect harmony. We never had to be tested in the reality of the difficulties of maintaining a relationship. Everything is relative to everything else. I am looking for absolutes and happily ever afters, but maybe relatives are good enough. Or not?
the only absolute is that all absolutes are
will you absolutely love me relatively?