Smelling the Roses

Ironically, during my search for an apartment and the security of a job just out of school, my relationship reached an unprecedented place of tranquility. Arguments were scarce; the angst I associated with love had subsided. So, then, I’ve wondered, why didn’t I feel compelled to write about this small miracle?

The easy answers come the quickest: kvech, kvech, kvech and kvech. Is it all I do? Is this really the source of my inspiration? Why date if I can’t complain, right? Why live in New York City if I can’t moan about the air, the people, the money I spend just making it through the day? What a miserable existence, I thought.

We had months of little fighting. Why not tell about it? Is it not what we all hope for in our morbid dreams of the right guy in the right relationship in the right amount of humidity? Couldn’t I give witness to that overrated state of bliss to which even the most mediocre among us aspire? Is that so hard?

Three months and a huge argument later, I’ve decided that it is so hard. Again, I cannot be many things. I cannot pass a doctor with broad shoulders poking through a lab coat without impulsively checking for a ring. I cannot enjoy a Diet Coke without that first lingering burn of carbonation. Most of all, I cannot be one of those people who romanticizes romance to the point of regurgitation.

When all is well with love, sometimes it’s better to avoid any sudden movements. It’s kind of like when you blow a really big bubble that could burst at any second. Or, when my hair falls just right in the mirror, I’m afraid to move for fear of sweating in straight or walking into an aqueous breeze. Cautiously, I motion toward the hairspray to capture the coiffure.

Sure, I’d like to show off that bubble. Yeah, I’m proud of the hair. But, there comes a time when I need to have more than the memory. I’m compelled to stand still, enjoying those good times. Sometimes that means not having the time to take in down in writing. With the stroke of a pen or a tap on the space bar, it could all be over.