A Bid to be Children Again

To expect perfection is a self-fulfilling prophecy. For perfection is calculated in the mind of the beholder and the beholder’s judgment is flippant. Contorting and bending like an awarded gymnast, incapable of consistency. The very notion of happily ever after was created to neatly tie up fiction with a bow. But reality tears the bow to shreds, for people do not have carefully plotted arcs and traits. In reality, people are a smorgasbord of experience and insecurities and gaps in nurture. Making monogamy not a happy mix of fate and risk that leads to happily-ever-after, but a grinding decision to be made every day that leads to being more developed-than-before.

It is, no doubt, the hardest relationship to deal with. For it is the only relationship that requires flawless communication, eager placement on a pedestal, and ceaseless displays of affection. Jilted roses to commemorate memories, text updates throughout the day, openness with childhood trauma. It’s the most vulnerable form of friendship for if one fails, it is expected of the other to cut it off without the slightest deliberation. Two sets of feet on a tight rope, slowly progressing through life together, bracing for obstacles and for the other. Though the slightest misstep could lead one or both careening into a forgotten abyss with nothing to latch onto.

I do not believe monogamy to be classical music and animated chattering animals. But I believe it to be the sincerest attempt to return to childlike naivety. The idea that two people meet and there is an instant connection and then the rest of the world pales in comparison and you become flawless humans achieving self-actualization and happiness hand in hand is quite lofty. It is a pipe dream. But it leads to the deepest connection of your life. For you are expected to be laid bare, to see each other’s scars and not look away. Surrounded by your own natures and the only serpent being your inadequacies and not reach for the apple. To laugh, to giggle, to grow frustrated, to cry, to leap, to sleep, to grow old with, to be truly seen. For what you are. Not what you should be. A naive attempt to be children once more, indeed.