Surprises
My wife and I fight endlessly so we won't have to admit how much we need each-other. We fear how vulnerable we are to this other person who is as flawed as we ourselves are. We both throw indignities and accusations at the other to create an endless gauntlet of difficulty - hoping that it will be perceived as the confetti of our endless wedding march.
I worry endlessly and show off to the world out of fear that I've already failed at the only things that matter to me, and she hides in a lovely coiled shell for the same reason. In those rare moments when we are both awake and we actually see ourselves there is no doubt that all this silly posturing is a tiny thing in the face of the awesome and scary bond we share.
When those moments come, even if we're tired and still worrying about the endless list of issues we each carry - we are there for one another, and the world goes still for us. The peace we yearn for, yet fail to think we'll ever find, is suddenly upon us as if it had always been there.
Then the front door bell rings. It is 2 in the morning. It seems impossible that someone we know would seek us out at this hour. I decide the world is full of strange synchronies, so I'll go answer it. Perhaps even at this late hour it will be a face I recognize from our gallery of intimate portraits. Even so, I'll need to cover myself with some clothes.
No. it's a guy with the wrong address looking for a playmate. His well coifed head and tight shirt compliment his still firm physique. He smiles at me and compliments me. He wants sex, and apparently I'll do for his purposes. I apologize and tell him he has the wrong house. He smiles and asks me if I'm sure. I assure him it is so. He offers me money. Perhaps I am gay for pay? No, I tell him. I sometimes wish I swung that way sir, and I could certainly use the money, but I'm sorry. He walks off, disappointed that I don't want him, and I go back to bed.
In the same way that this house has been trouble for me at times, it can also remind me of my good choices. Here's to my green door, even if it IS still silver.
I worry endlessly and show off to the world out of fear that I've already failed at the only things that matter to me, and she hides in a lovely coiled shell for the same reason. In those rare moments when we are both awake and we actually see ourselves there is no doubt that all this silly posturing is a tiny thing in the face of the awesome and scary bond we share.
When those moments come, even if we're tired and still worrying about the endless list of issues we each carry - we are there for one another, and the world goes still for us. The peace we yearn for, yet fail to think we'll ever find, is suddenly upon us as if it had always been there.
Then the front door bell rings. It is 2 in the morning. It seems impossible that someone we know would seek us out at this hour. I decide the world is full of strange synchronies, so I'll go answer it. Perhaps even at this late hour it will be a face I recognize from our gallery of intimate portraits. Even so, I'll need to cover myself with some clothes.
No. it's a guy with the wrong address looking for a playmate. His well coifed head and tight shirt compliment his still firm physique. He smiles at me and compliments me. He wants sex, and apparently I'll do for his purposes. I apologize and tell him he has the wrong house. He smiles and asks me if I'm sure. I assure him it is so. He offers me money. Perhaps I am gay for pay? No, I tell him. I sometimes wish I swung that way sir, and I could certainly use the money, but I'm sorry. He walks off, disappointed that I don't want him, and I go back to bed.
In the same way that this house has been trouble for me at times, it can also remind me of my good choices. Here's to my green door, even if it IS still silver.