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WHEW, done with the essay. gonna post it: note, some ebellishment on the negative part of our relationship cuz it's a college essay.
"Scrambled Eggs."
We didn’t always have such a good relationship, Sara and me. I had desired a companion. A best friend, somebody to confide in who would confide in me, somebody whom I could trust and could trust me, a person to call when something terrible happened, to call me when something incredible happened, and regardless we would be there for each other. What we had been was much different. As I sat in the cold, sipping my coffee and staring pensively into her soft face I remembered another night in the cold much like this. It had been just as dark and wintry.
I searched across the dead night sky in hopes it would reveal the words that hid from me. The truths I sought as I turned back to stare into those hungry green eyes eluded me still. Her appetite for the answers that I couldn’t give only further disconnected us as we sat, silently questioning each other and ourselves. It was impossible to communicate the emptiness that had plagued me for the past months.
I had known we were struggling when she asked me if I wanted her to act happy. Our frequent Friday nights out did anything but bring us closer emotionally. We would laugh and talk and fool around, and at the end of the night we would go to sleep and know less about each other than before. Sara and I were growing distant, although we spent a lot of time together, because we didn’t trust each other enough to be ourselves. Our relationship was empty, one massive masquerade of sequins and pearls, and we were the guests at a party of deception. That night I realized I hated her disguise, and when I decided to take mine off she wasn’t prepared to show her face.
The breeze picked up again as my eyes flirted with the familiar darkness, vainly searching for clarity while the cold laced my body and numbed my fidgeting fingers.
When our eyes met, I knew exactly what I had been feeling for the better part of three months. It sighed from my lips, slipping into the darkness and creeping across the gloom into Sara’s ears.
-We just aren’t friends, Sara, and we never have been.
Her frantic lips begged for something to say, anything that would make me change my mind. I could tell she didn’t understand as she awkwardly fumbled for control over her words that were spilling into the same air that was cutting through my T-shirt. Whatever our intentions had been, we were strangers emotionally, we were guests visiting each other’s lives and it was finally on the table. How could we feign the bonds of friendship that we never forged? Although our relationship seemed doomed, I was changed forever and so was she.
As we sat, chilled by the dawning moon that brought into focus the worst in us, about us, we fell apart. There was a bond, but it was forged in the mutuality of our loneliness, not out of trust and companionship for each other. I now know that, for me, a relationship is about more than passion; it’s about accepting her flaws, it’s about missing the sound of her voice, and most of all it’s about the understanding and trust which abounds from honesty.
The fog that had hindered my emotional maturation and stunted love’s blossoming between Sara and me was lifted with our separation, and I know more about myself now. I want to be someone who consciously chooses the direction they will travel, and with whom, when I embark on the complex path to happiness. My decision to search for true companionship before artificial comforts may be the first I’ve made as an adult.
Since that night, we’ve rediscovered our passion for each other through our intellects, our spirits, and emotionally. J.P Morgan once said “It is impossible to unscramble a broken egg,” but scrambled people make for a better relationship, even if we needed to break ourselves to have it. Sitting on the deck now, drinking the last of my coffee, I can’t help feel just a little more scrambled after I smile into her candid green eyes, and I love it.
"Scrambled Eggs."
We didn’t always have such a good relationship, Sara and me. I had desired a companion. A best friend, somebody to confide in who would confide in me, somebody whom I could trust and could trust me, a person to call when something terrible happened, to call me when something incredible happened, and regardless we would be there for each other. What we had been was much different. As I sat in the cold, sipping my coffee and staring pensively into her soft face I remembered another night in the cold much like this. It had been just as dark and wintry.
I searched across the dead night sky in hopes it would reveal the words that hid from me. The truths I sought as I turned back to stare into those hungry green eyes eluded me still. Her appetite for the answers that I couldn’t give only further disconnected us as we sat, silently questioning each other and ourselves. It was impossible to communicate the emptiness that had plagued me for the past months.
I had known we were struggling when she asked me if I wanted her to act happy. Our frequent Friday nights out did anything but bring us closer emotionally. We would laugh and talk and fool around, and at the end of the night we would go to sleep and know less about each other than before. Sara and I were growing distant, although we spent a lot of time together, because we didn’t trust each other enough to be ourselves. Our relationship was empty, one massive masquerade of sequins and pearls, and we were the guests at a party of deception. That night I realized I hated her disguise, and when I decided to take mine off she wasn’t prepared to show her face.
The breeze picked up again as my eyes flirted with the familiar darkness, vainly searching for clarity while the cold laced my body and numbed my fidgeting fingers.
When our eyes met, I knew exactly what I had been feeling for the better part of three months. It sighed from my lips, slipping into the darkness and creeping across the gloom into Sara’s ears.
-We just aren’t friends, Sara, and we never have been.
Her frantic lips begged for something to say, anything that would make me change my mind. I could tell she didn’t understand as she awkwardly fumbled for control over her words that were spilling into the same air that was cutting through my T-shirt. Whatever our intentions had been, we were strangers emotionally, we were guests visiting each other’s lives and it was finally on the table. How could we feign the bonds of friendship that we never forged? Although our relationship seemed doomed, I was changed forever and so was she.
As we sat, chilled by the dawning moon that brought into focus the worst in us, about us, we fell apart. There was a bond, but it was forged in the mutuality of our loneliness, not out of trust and companionship for each other. I now know that, for me, a relationship is about more than passion; it’s about accepting her flaws, it’s about missing the sound of her voice, and most of all it’s about the understanding and trust which abounds from honesty.
The fog that had hindered my emotional maturation and stunted love’s blossoming between Sara and me was lifted with our separation, and I know more about myself now. I want to be someone who consciously chooses the direction they will travel, and with whom, when I embark on the complex path to happiness. My decision to search for true companionship before artificial comforts may be the first I’ve made as an adult.
Since that night, we’ve rediscovered our passion for each other through our intellects, our spirits, and emotionally. J.P Morgan once said “It is impossible to unscramble a broken egg,” but scrambled people make for a better relationship, even if we needed to break ourselves to have it. Sitting on the deck now, drinking the last of my coffee, I can’t help feel just a little more scrambled after I smile into her candid green eyes, and I love it.