Saturday, December 7, 2013

Differences of love.

My top three peeves are:

1.  Snoring
2.  Caterpillars
3.  Consecutive, loud sneezing

All three evoke wrath, but snoring has always been the most aggravating.  I hate snoring.  I #@$@#$* hate it.  With that said, a funny thing has happened over the course of this year.

I've made an exception.

When I first started dating M., I was pretty devastated to find out that he was a snorer (just an occasional one, to be fair).  I reconsidered our future together--well, certain aspects of it, like sleeping in separate bedrooms in separate separate worlds.  When it happened though, to my surprise, it didn't actually bother me all that much.  It kept me up, but in my wake, I dotingly wrote a poem about it.  I likened his snoring to the sound of a tumbled sea through a seashell; a symphony of air.  I realized then, I was in love with the guy because M.'s snoring can actually be really annoying if I think about it objectively.  He does this thing where his snoring gets louder and louder and increasingly more beast-like until he peaks, and then he actually chokes on it and wakes himself up.  It's kind of funny, but a friend told me once that M. might actually have sleep apnea, which is a very serious matter.

Anyway, last night he was snoring again and I didn't write a poem.  I didn't really feel any extremities, positive or negative, and I had been awake for at least an hour after he had fallen asleep with my head nestled against his shoulder.  I just felt warm and comfortable.  His snoring wasn't as inspiring to me as it was a year ago (I may have been infatuated and slightly delusional at the time).  Yes, it definitely is a little inhibiting, but I've always known that, and that's ok.  I didn't want to be anywhere else, even with him wheezing into my ear.

So, I think that's the difference between being in love and actually loving someone.      

Some things can be very simple.

Sunlight melting, river glimpse 
Bodies framed in faded chairs 
Lime and sugar, sprig of mint 
Made the same for fifty years 
An easy silence floating between our two mason jars 

Oh sometimes when you look at me 
I can see that far.

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