Explain This To Me

21 03 2008

Another Sunday Scribble, this time about what confuses me, what I just don’t get.

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You know, when you think about all the ways it shouldn’t have happened, wouldn’t have happened, couldn’t possibly have happened, it’s a wonder. When you think about all the things that had to line up in exactly the right way, had to fall into place just so, it’s pretty amazing.

And yet it did happen. You were at that camp, I was forced to go to that camp. I, the shy kid who never made any friends, felt a connection with you, the beautiful girl who has trouble being around large groups of people. That connection was so strong that we both got over our independent fears of being sociable, and we began to talk. There were others, sure, friends we made, phone numbers we exchanged. But I think, even if we didn’t know it at the time, when each of those other connections was severed, it made sense. Those other connections were never meant to be for the long haul. Those other connections were best friends, which eventually turned into camp friends, and again eventually into, “What was her name?”s. And it made sense. But, even as that was happening, and we were sad about the loss, I think we knew. We knew that we weren’t destined for that. Our connection was meant for the long haul.

And even once that was established, and we didn’t have to worry about losing touch, the world kept lining things up just so. Neither of us kissed the other first. Instead, we both just fell into the kiss, like it had always been there, waiting for us to find it. And who said, “I love you” first? In the darkness, I whispered it. Then you said it, slightly louder. I almost didn’t respond, assuming you were responding to me. In the silence, I said it again, only later learning that you had never heard me that first time. We are the only two people who have ever both said, “I love you” first. That makes us magical.

And even when nobody else understood us, when nobody else accepted us, the world still was on our side. When one of us would move to another city, making the distance between us even further, the other of us would just happen to be moving as well, keeping that distance the same. That is, of course, until the fateful move that shortened that distance to no further than the next room over. Yes, and even that was fated. Your job made the move to Los Angeles mandatory, while my career necessitated the same move.

Then came the real test: would living together, seeing each other every day, become a nightmare that neither of us expected? No. Instead, it led to neither one of us proposing marriage, but both of us knowing that day that now was the time to buy a ring. People ask us, “What’s the story? Did you get down on your knee? Did you propose to him?” But we don’t have a story. We don’t need that. We don’t need everybody else to “get” us. We just need to get each other. And we have.

So, what is it that I don’t understand? What boggles my mind these days? I was going to talk about how I don’t understand why you love me. But the truth is, I do understand. It’s the same reason I love you: we fit, plain and simple. So then I was going to question how two people who are so right for each other could, despite the odds, actually find each other. But I understand that, too: the world said, “Yes.”

So I guess what I don’t understand is that, though I’m aware of all the bad things in the world, the hardships, the sadness, how can it be that there are people in this world who can look out into this crazy place, and genuinely not believe in love?

— ldi