Forever

Dear John,

I just yelled at a diamond commercial.

It was one of those nice ones too - not the overly cheesy ones that pop up around Christmas, Valentine's Day and Mother's Day - where the young couple walks around the old couple who are holding hands, only to rejoin their hands on the other side. The hands have diamonds, like duh, but that's not the point.

The point is that I no longer believe in their tagline:
"There are only two things that last longer than a [lifetime? I actually can't remember this word]. Diamonds are one of them."

Ahhh I've been a hopeless romantic my entire life, even while watching my parents argue and after struggling with a really rough break up with my last "love." But I chalked it up to bad communication for the former and immaturity for the latter, and reestablished my faith in love.

Then I found you and jumped into love so fast. We Indian soul-gazed, you wrote songs about me, we spoke the words, we discussed moving cross-country and into our own place together. I guess I assumed that the only guy who would ever suggest all that would be someone as crazy and faithful in love as I was.

Changes, changes, timing, timing (if I could I would punch timing in the face for me and all the pain it has caused me and all my girlfriends) and poof, now we're apart. Does that mean we're no longer in love? We said the words at the last possible seconds before our separation. And we'd been talking for weeks about how we didn't get to fully explore our love.

So why give up on it so soon? Why not give it a chance? Maybe, as you believe, we would have broken up eventually - whether it was a year down the year or thirty. Maybe love isn't forever. Or maybe true (Godly?) love is, but flawed human love is.

Regardless, I yelled at a commercial. If there were a ballet or a Hollywood movie in front of me, I would also yell at it. Because love still messes crap up. And I hate that, possibly because of marketing, my standards, hopes and dreams were so high.