“what if we stop having a ball?
what if the paint chips from the wall?
what if there’s always cups in the sink?
what if i’m not what you think i am?
what if i fall further than you?
what if you dream of somebody new?
what if i never let you in
and chase you with a rolling pin?
well, what if i do?
’cause i am giving up on making passes
and i am giving up on half-empty glasses
and i am giving up on greener grasses and
i am giving up.”
several people have told me in the past few months that everything with k and i will work out because we’re just meant to be together. we just to cuteadorableinloveperfect to not work.
and then there’s my dad. who simply said, ‘it’ll all work out in the end.’
i wrote this post a few months ago, and it got a ton of traffic. and in the six weeks since i wrote it, not much has changed. to look back and realize how stagnant a relationship can remain if you don’t take steps to improve it, it’s almost comical. who would voluntarily continue along a path where you snag more thorns than roses? nobody. nobody in their right mind does shit like that. it’s self-harm of the spirit. it makes no damn sense.
yet this kind of thing never really does, does it? make sense, that is. that’s part of the thrill of love – you act completely out of character sometimes, you do things you wouldn’t otherwise do. you might act impulsively at times. but you’re too busy floating on your personal cloud of amorous eutopia to care.
but if it starts to fall apart, you frantically claw for something to cling to, something that will keep everything together. you hang on to your Queen Mary built of toothpicks for far longer than is reasonable, still searching desperately for a way to mend all of the leaks.
maybe you write a blog post about it.
and then six weeks later you read it again and think, ‘well shit, we’ve made zero progress.’ it occurs to you that stagnancy may in fact just be another form of deterioration. patience is still slowly wearing out. and hope. all a steady siphon stream into the side street gutter.
even though i hate knowing the endings of books before i read them, i wish i could flip to the last few pages of my own. just to make sure my dad was right.