We Belong in This Forever

"A Matter of Time," The Killers

Sometimes in the midst of some really, really good months, you just get tossed a few of those less-than-stellar weeks. Those kind of weeks that are achingly overwhelming. That prove the age-old cliche: 24 are just not enough hours to cover all of it. That there is such a thing as a breaking point, and reaching it more than once in a day is not, in fact, impossible. The kind of days, weeks that aren't beautifully cured by Van Morrison and a glass of wine; a good book and a 20 dollar bill surprisingly retrieved from the back pocket of last year's jeans.

The Killers have an awesome song (The Killers have dozens of awesome songs) called "A Dustland Fairytale," and in it Brandon Flowers bemoans, "Moon River, what'd you do to me?" Because...right?! "Dream maker...you heart breaker...wherever you're going, I'm going your way." But...what about the times I'm not? What if (when) it inevitably turns out I don't want to go your way, and instead stubbornness or principle override compromise? What then, Andy Williams? Two drifters, in theory, off to see the world is a nice little picturesque dream, but the reality is that responsibility and money and foundation and stability have to come into play at some point. (And as a side note, does the word drifter really have that great of a connotation, anyway?)

More often than not, these kind of days present a delicate kind of clarity, as they invariably provoke both conversation and reflection-- maybe painful, maybe touching, always honest, definitely necessary. Because some of the beauty really is in the contradiction and the cracks. The hardware and armor created and needed to sustain a lasting relationship are built just as much from the arguments and the confusion as they are from the celebrations and successes. Because isn't it true that in order for anything to really know it's worth, it must first be proven that the thing itself can break?

Whether we want to admit it or not, life is messy. Sometimes we get let down, and people or ideas or situations don't meet our expectations. Sometimes our expectations are unrealistic or unfair, and we allow ourselves to believe it's not our fault anyway. Deflecting blame is so easy. But then, in one of those compulsory moments of self-reflection, we're able to actually peek inside our own selves for a bit-- stir around in that little autonomous pool and actually think about motives and reactions. And I'm reminded how imperfect and flawed my own words and responses; motive and reactions are.

And then, like always, the not-so-good days are fleeting and over. We spend hours talking and laughing. And laying in bed listening to so much good music, and he suddenly he says he knows the song for the baby. And he plays it, loud.

Be still
Wild and young
Long may your innocence reign
Like shells on the shore
And may your limits be unknown
And may your efforts be your own

In sickness and in health. In good times and in bad. In joy as well as in sorrow. How lucky am I are we?

I was born to catch dragons in their dens

And pick flowers

To tell tales and laugh away the morning

To drift and dream like a lazy stream

And walk barefoot across sunshine days.

 

...

I was born to love a man wrapped in sunshine

And dressed in fog

To make a pact on a high hill

Ratified centuries ago by the sun

To walk together through sunshine days and foggy nights.

 

-James Kavanaugh