Browsing through blogs today (with an angry toothache coming from a tooth scheduled for extraction) I came upon this:
“Tucked away in picture frames, hidden in a box I kept you safely from me. Yet star-lit eyes seemed to grin like demons as I discovered my forgotten treasure. There you were, as if I had never left you. There you were, as if everything were the same. Quickly, I brushed away your image, tucking it into the pile of hard memories. Another box, another prison and I would be released from you. But never could I simply throw you away. My heart had long forgotten how to beat and yet each picture returned its rhythm. I could not stand the betrayal of my own affections. Had I not buried this love long enough? How could it continue to live in the shadows of my mind? Each smile, each glazed eye, the awkward angle of your hand, the slope of your brow. Each conjured the dead, raising them in the broken pieces of my heart. The war is undone by the mere image of your face, I am defeated…What great lesson is this? God’s cruel trick… My only hope for salvation is to find someone else. To tack this undying monster onto an undeserving soul in fragile hope I can be saved. Yet I fear, it too, will be no match against the black hole of our star-crossed connection. Much to my dismay, you will always be there with smiling eyes and a flippant grin. Like a specter, you will always be there.”
Do we really need another study done that shows how marriage shortens a woman’s life?
I believe in the idea…hell I tried it once. I love the notion of “Happily ever after”, I am a product of the Disney generation after all. I’d even be willing to go so far as to say I could convince you to agree with me. As modern and progressive as I consider myself to be, there is still a tiny princess of a girl dreaming up tulle and satin atrocities even the best designers haven’t created yet. I glance at Bride magazine at the checkout…I eyeball rings in the jewelry store on occasion. I wonder…daydream…and think it must be… early alzheimers. 🙂
The reality of any romantic situation is never the stuff movies are made on. Hell if it were, we wouldn’t need movies! Trying to co-mingle and coexist with anyone for all eternity is unnatural. Not to mention boring. I don’t care how many shrinks, women or clergymen say you can find ways to spice things up and keep it fresh forever, it’s a load of crap, and everyone knows it…even as abject denial is dripping from their lips. Having sex with the same one person for the rest of time is the equivalent of being sentenced to eat nothing but peanut butter and jelly for the rest of your life. Granted, I can go for a pb&j now and then, but not enough to give up steak and shrimp.
At any rate, This past Saturday I found myself knee deep in marital-strife in a pale blue satin dress I wouldn’t have even worn in the 80’s. Adding to my horror was the half-can of Aqua net the “on-site beauty professional” had sprayed into my hair (and lungs…). You could literally bounce pocket change off the curls that were clinking behind me in all their lacquered glory. The 20 lbs of stress weight I’ve been slowly melting off was turning the prom dress into a tourniquet with a sort of greenhouse effect. With our dyed to match satin heels and troupe of 4 close friends donning the same uniform, we marched our sweating miserable asses up the aisle and gave our friend away to a complete moron.
The sad fact? She knows he’s a moron. Hell she told all of us. When I asked her “Why, Why, WHY?” she actually said “Why not? What else is there to do?” Too many wonderful things rushed through my mind at once and I was just left speechless. She was looking forward to the honeymoon to Boise, after all, and figured he was an adequate choice.
Does it really make me a horrible person to want fireworks? Call me demanding, but I want the guy that can’t think of anything else in the world he’d rather do than spend his life with me, and I want to feel the same. Life is too short to be sort of happy. Life is too short to settle. I went to the wedding hoping I’d have a new outlook on marriage, hoping that maybe it’d be a wistful blog about pale pink rosebuds and pearl buttons…but it’s only confirmation that I’m right… marriage is unhealthy.