Love, Actually

I thought I loved her. I thought I loved my job. I thought I loved my apartment. I thought I loved my life. Truth is. I settled for the way loving her made me feel. On paper, it was divine, 2 30 something’s, finally figuring it out. She dressed nice, she smelled pretty, she could say the right things at the right time, but I was not in love with her, as a person, as a whole being, as a complex and intricate entity, I just needed to feel needed, and the way she needed me felt good.

I wouldn’t have even noticed, that I was in love with the “idea” of love, with the “idea” of marriage and not taking measured and intentional steps in my life, had it not been for the long walk in the park. I’m a simple man, I enjoy simple things, the sunrise can take my breath away, the sounds of the waves crashing on the beach are a peaceful melody, and a hot walk in the park, in June, with no purpose and no direction feels like adventure and excitement to me.

Her remarks every step of the way, were exhausting. “Why are we here?”. “Why didn’t we drive?”. “I could’ve just stayed home, there’s nothing to do.” I was numb to it, the silent assault on my character, on my choices, on my actions. I kept walking through open grassy area feeling the sun beating down on my open chest, looking at the trees. I said nothing.

She became nasty. “You’re always doing some random thing that doesn’t make sense.” “I really would rather be watching tv. As a matter of fact, I really would rather be anywhere else”. “Come on” I say. “Just try to enjoy the open air, can’t you just feel the trees dancing at the wind, don’t you just love the enticing call of the birdsong.” She rolls her eyes sits down and takes out her phone.

I continue walking through the park, and this moment catches me. I see a dead leaf, on the ground propped atop a bed of grass, in the foreground a luscious green scenery of yet more alive healthy grass. And in the background a tall forest of trees extending far into the sky. The clouds in background fully formed and light, exquisitely shaped as if they had been picked out for that moment, the beauty was so simple but God it was breathtaking.

I lower myself to the ground and turn my phone upside down to get the perfect picture, “ahhh yes” I think to myself and sigh deeply, this was magical.

I walk back down to meet my fiancée as she sat in the grass, scrolling. I showed her the picture, the perfect picture. “Look,” I say, “look!”. She looks for 2 seconds and shoves my phone back into my hands. “Ok! So what?!” She says with disdain.

I felt heartbroken, I felt small, I felt stupid for even bringing her to my intimate space, where the uncomplicated pieces of nature felt like wonders of the world. I began to get angry, so I looked at my picture again. With instant relief, I realized, it was the picture and it wasn’t me. It was her.

She didn’t belong. 5’10 blonde, blue eyes and nice teeth. My parents approved and my co-workers esteemed, and my buddies lusted. The photos we took together were post worthy, the conversations around pop culture and politics were stimulating. It looked good on paper. Because I could quantify it with qualifications.

She checked all of the superficially crafted boxes. But she didn’t satisfy my soul. And neither did the life I had created around her.

We walked back to the apartment for 20 minutes in silence. And all I could think about was that dead leaf. How beauty and splendor grew in vast creation around it but the leaf set atop the grass was devoid of any life. She represented that leaf for me.

As we reached the top of the stairs, I grabbed my key, unlocked the door and let her into the apartment. Poured us both a large glass of ice cold water and took a deep breath. I watched her sit down on the couch, and yet again bury her face in her phone. I set the water down on the coffee table, then pierced the silence with my tone of voice.

“We need to talk”.