Baby, are you a firework?

“I loved you
grey sweat pants, no makeup, so perfect

Our love was, comfortable and
so broken in
she’s perfect, so flawless
I’m not impressed, I want you back.”

As my girlfriend and I were cruising back from another hazy, yet tan-fulfilled beach day, she regaled stories about her relationship with her boyfriend.  Her giggles over embarrassing, couples-only moments sparked memories within my heart.  It was those silly, red-faced moments in which you’re other half realizes you just may not be as perfect as you attempted to portray… in fact, you may just belch louder and stronger than the best of his boys.  But it is these little moments that break down the awkward walls of a courtship and carry your little love entity into true relationship territory.  While I know close friends who walk down the block, away from their love nest, to pass gas, other friends are stepping into the comfort of being comfortable in their relationships.  Yes, these are the no-make-up, drool-stained, unshaven-leg moments in which your guard slips, little by little, until surprise! you’re a human being just like your counterpart.  From this hilarious bliss stage comes inside jokes and silly memories, all of which make your bond stronger and more intense, more lifelike.

While we both laughed until we had tears streaming down our suntanned faces over my friend’s anecdotes, I felt something tugging at my heart.  My Memory was calling and as much as I didn’t want to answer her unrelenting request, I gave up and allowed the Past to claim my mind.  Six years spent with someone ensures the formation of hilarious, yet embarrassing memories.  My ex and I had dozens of inside jokes over my not-so-sexy moments and our favorite song was John Mayer’s “Comfortable.”  Like an old shoe, our love was comfortable.  It was broken in, reliable and provided cushion and comfort where I needed it (at times).  It was a bond and those not-so-sexy moments only made me more sexy to him. 

As I awoke from the Past’s sleep-induced daze over my mind, I wondered: is it comforting to be so comfortable, or does comfort suck the romance right out of the equation? 

Another friend of mine has recently entered the third year of her relationship bliss with her man.  From the phone calls of her incoherent sobs, it’s become apparent that the honeymoon just may be over.  What’s the problem? Her boyfriend is bored of their night-to-night routine.  Yes, they have entered the yawn-infested snooze zone of relationships.  And let me tell you, it’s not pretty.  This is the stage in which those cute little idiosyncrasies you once found endearing grate on your nerves like nails against a chalkboard. 

Despite my Memory’s incessant demands to drag me back into the La-La Land of Love, I grabbed the steering wheel and found a different direction.  I forced myself to sit down and remember how I felt during the last three years of my relationship.  Disappointed and heartbroken.  Yep, that just about sums it up.  Heartbroken doesn’t begin to cover the pain I endured during his abusive stages, but disappointed pinpoints exactly how I felt once I began sinking into the comfort of Us.  Yes, Us, it had become a huge monster, it’s own entity during the last years of the relationship. 

As hard I tried, I couldn’t avoid that sinking feeling of disappointment when I spent time with him.  Yes, we were comfortable and it felt nice, but it also felt boring, as if the life had been sucked out of Us.  During the early years, to trap me in his pseudo world of perfection, my ex-abuser flashed his money.  It was all about the fanciest restaurant, the most expensive Louis bag, or the sexiest new clothing.  Once we moved in together, and he had to play the role of a responsible adult and put his dollars toward rent, Mr. Bling fell flat.  In fact, I was bored out of my mind with his lackluster appeal.  That’s all he had—this great façade of wining and dining.  But, once the façade fell, he was dull  and those little quirks I once adored annoyed me. 

I vividly remember sitting on our sofa next to him while he, dressed in Family Guy pajama pants and with a fro of unkempt curly hair, laughed hysterically at the Saturday morning cartoons.  I remember I was enamored with watching him, my face was full of disgust.  Ick.  I used to love his childlike side, his silliness, but now it was just that, childlike. Was this really the same guy that donned a suit and took me out on amazing dates?  Was this the great catch I wanted to marry?  Yeah, not so much anymore.  He had become a little too comfortable and I was running for the door.

I guess levels of comfort are specific to the couple’s needs.  Maybe in some cases it’s ok, and even endearing to find comfort in a loving relationship, and maybe for others they need to stop each other from sinking so far in to the comfort of the relationship and find a happy medium.  I long to find a man I can feel confident enough to wear my pjs around and still feel beautiful, but I also long for butterflies and sparks.  Does comfort come at the price of sparks and fireworks?  I don’t know.  I do know that when you’re with someone for over six years, sparks are sure to fade, but they should never die.  Our relationship died for a multitude of reasons, one of which was that I couldn’t hide my disappointment anymore—it was written all over my face.  I had no sparks for him, I never really did.  Those butterflies of attraction and affection were never truly there. 

So for those of you out there in relationships, I hope you find your happy medium.  I wish you many sparks and silly stories to come.  For me, I’ve decided to retire the John Mayer song from my I-Pod, so I’ll share it here, hoping that it will mean as much to someone else as it once did to me.  Can comfort and butterflies coexist in harmony?  I’m not sure and I’ve begun to question the need for comfort in my own life.  I’m not so sure I wish to find a partner to be comfortable with; I’m looking for someone who will rattle me from the comfort of daily life, someone who will shake my inner core and leave me breathless. I have so much life ahead of me and all the time in the world to sink into the couch of comfort.  Right now, at 24,  I’m looking for my firework.

 

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Comments
6 Responses to “Baby, are you a firework?”
  1. I like this a lot… It makes me think I should really work on reflecting on my relationships-gone-bad and see if the guy was really that great to begin with 🙂

    • jordanleah says:

      Thanks! I’m so glad you stopped by… and definitely take a walk down memory lane, most of the time you’ll find that person you may have once missed isn’t all he’s cracked up to be! 😉

  2. Maria says:

    Great article! Thanks for this useful information.
    Best regards!
    Maria

  3. jordanleah says:

    Hey Maria, thanks for reading! 🙂

  4. KARAAN says:

    Very well-written and thoughtful. Betty Clapp and I are proud of you, Jordan.

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