Wednesday, February 8, 2012


​“Isn’t it great that spring is finally here?” I asked.

​We sat upon the deck, underneath the blanket of darkness that night had brought with delight. The clouds seemed to glow, picking up the radiation of the streetlamps, and they parted, like a curtain revealing the opening of a new show, to the glow of the constellations, which glimmered with rejoice in their awakening.

​When I brought my gaze from the sky I noticed that Lucy had been staring at the gravel alleyway in the distance in discontent. I asked, “What’s wrong my love?” and waited through her drawn out sigh for a reply.

​“I don’t like spring,” she admitted, hesitantly, and then added, “It’s so repulsing.”

​“How so?” My attention still remained on the stars, which seemed to become brighter the longer I stared towards them. As my vision shifted, more were revealed, and it became difficult to look away.

​She answered my question while I remained transfixed at the midnight sky. “The snow always leaves behind a disgusting display of human waste. The roads are always littered with salt rocks, mud, and litter, and it always gets all over the place. The house is always muddy, with dirt and slosh brought in from our shoes. There’s puddles everywhere that always manage to find their way through my shoes and destroy my good socks. Everything’s cold, wet, and dirty.” She whimpered with displeasure.

In an attempt to persuade her views on the season I suggested that ​“It’s only temporary, and then we're blessed with summers warmth.”

​“I like summer!” she exclaimed, “I just don’t like everything in between. It’s a horrid part of nature.”

​“But Lucy, is it not like everything’s being renewed?" I provided her with the analogy that, "It's like we are witnessing the birth of seasons--a renewal of life.”

​By this time I had diverted my thoughts from the stars, giving her my full attention. She looked at me in disgust, wrinkling her nose and shrugging her eyebrows. “Birth is one of the most disgusting things to exist."

I felt revolted at the comment, believing that every woman had an appreciation for the birth of life. It altered the security of our relationship with conflicts of family expectations.

It’s dirty, bloody, and atrocious, just like spring,” she went on, destroying the euphoria my beliefs had secured. ​I sat quietly trying to accept her judgments. Her words continued but I had distanced my attention from her while I pondered the inaccuracies of my own perceptions.

Some time later while lying next to her, my mind was trapped in fifth gear and wouldn't slow down. My beliefs, expectations, and securities changed frequently, but things just remained either way. The world seemed to shift uncontrollably, like a ship at sail, and with the possibility of death with the swaying of each wave. The mind, reality, the deception between two minds--it creates nothing but inconsistency.

​Noticing that I was awake she pointed out, “It’s been almost two years since we’ve lived with each other.”

I didn't respond, or know how to. Her tone suggested she wanted a change. I had pondered the idea of searching for a better suited parter, but dismissed it with the acceptance of security. She loved me, cherished me, and I was supposed to be the one with discontent. I was blind to the actuality of our unhappiness.

She asked me, ​“What do you think our relationship is going to be?”

​“I don't know?” I didn't think our current state would have changed much.

The room sat eerily awaiting something to be spoken and unhappy with my reply, she was the first to commit. “What is going to happen with us?”

​“What do you want?” No answer would have soothed that moment. I believe that no one really knows what they are searching for. A moment of happiness suddenly overtook my realization of loss. Past memories shared flooded my mind, like a lucid dream, I relived the moments as if watching a painful film.

​The flickering light of a candle bounced its illumination on the wall, as if dancing to the chant of a divine presence. “Look how it makes the waves of that painting seem as if it’s moving.” Lucy’s arm rested over me as we lied together on top of my bed. “It’s almost as if the candlelight makes it real. Doesn’t it seem like were looking through a window?”


​“It makes me want to escape.”

​“You don’t like it here?” I asked.

​“Well...” she paused. “I like you. You're cute. So you should escape with me.”

​“Where shall we go?” I laughed at the thought.

​“Anywhere but here. Let’s just drive somewhere new. Fuck this place.”

​She sat up and turned on the night lamp that sat on a side table next to the bed. “Well,"she persisted, "Let’s go right now. It will be a spontaneous adventure!” She tugged at my arm, trying to pull me from my cozy slumber.

​“Right now?" I groaned. "It’s already past midnight, and I have to work tomorrow.”

"You hate your job. And I don't want to come back. Let's just leave this waste behind and start fresh. We can become whoever, whatever we want. The possibilities are infinite. It will be a new life, how we want, with us."

It was her eager ambition and spontaneous drive that I fell in love with, that drove me to experience what I feared. I was in need of a push, and she pushed me, but what good are memories when life is lived moment by moment? Thoughts of future happiness is what had driven me. We were both running away from a past, but stuck in the moment, and the farther we seemed to get, the worse things developed. The future seemed dismal and unappetizing, but life goes on either way, and luckily it does, because confrontations of the unexpected are what make it an adventure.