Personally, am not a believer of love at first sight. Should you feel a pang, boom and POW, that is certainly a ‘lust at first sight’. But I do believe in the ‘click’. It’s not as immediate or flamboyant, but that calming feeling that settles warmly at the bottom of your tummy. That internal sigh you give when you stand atop a high ass mountain and you feel the first breeze cooling off your grimy sweat. Its that glow you see almost radiating off of a Buddhist and his/her bald head.
Meaning this shit doesn’t come to you just like that, but after a drawn out affair of a courtship, friendship, hateship, or TheDudeIseeAlwaysInOzoneThatIknowWhatHeOrdersStalkship. Its gradual, to the point sometimes its insufferable. Some are lucky to grasp the situation and realize ‘this is the penny I keep and never chuck’ while others (like me) chew the flavor out of it till it bitch slaps you into submission. However long, whatever method it takes, the ‘click’ happens. I guess this is where you can accuse me of being a romantic (I know those who know me reading this now will be guffawing at this statement, but hear me out assholes). Because I’ve heard it so many times, in a varying, in fact a dizzying array of variations, but the core of it is: with a comfortable, though frightening finale, you hear that click give away, and all of it comes gently tumbling like an anchor finding it’s target and just keeping you in place. That place of ‘I know where I am, why I am, what I am, and I am content’, not the cliche’d better half bullshit, but that whole, that one plus one equals… infinity.
Despite all these flowery proclamations I’ve just made, a nagging bitch of a fear paralyzes me… what if the ‘click’ is not enough?
I mean damn that just puts my gut feeling into jeopardy, we already have enough to be paranoid about in this world, but now even my gut? Once I hear the click will I have to look down at my gut and poke rather rudely at it ‘Hey! Hey! Shut the F up you fraud! I only hear filthy LIES!’. Not only will strangers question my sanity (is she telling her unborn child to shutup? OMG call child services) but I’ll begin to question my not so flawless judgement. Just humor me…
What if it’s not enough to know him/her, to know yourself, your priorities, your peace of mind, your definition of commitment, compromise, happy marriage, responsibilities. After all those sleepless nights with yourself, the higher power, your prayer rug, holy book, your demons, the magnificent yet intimidating shadow of your parents perfection of a marriage, the love stories of imaginary and not so imaginary characters, the broken and traumatizing stories of imaginary and not so imaginary couples, it’s all not enough to protect you from the deafening cracks of failure whether in a breakup or a divorce.
You get the ‘click’ and may end up with a broken switch that will be crackling with exposed wires and soundless.
So… do we entrust the click with our hearts? Or muffle and drown it like a rat in a rusted bucket?
Nubian(Q) 