Dry Cereal

For awhile we were the perfect pair. Anyone who says there's no such thing as perfect is simply incorrect, it exists. And when it was good, it was really good. It was, well, perfect. Like spaghetti and meat-balls, peanut butter and jelly, hotdogs and mustard, bacon and eggs, donuts with sprinkles, we were meant to be together. We were like crispy cereal and cold milk.

But things changed. The cereal started getting cold and the milk started turning sour. And when it was bad, it sucked.

Sounds familiar? All relationships go through this. Hasn't happened in your happy little relationship yet? Don't worry, you're not missing out, it's coming. For those who still believe in fairy tales, here's the translation for "happily ever after", Snow White runs off with Droopy and the Prince and Happy hook up. Welcome to reality.

Some relationships go through the changes earlier than others, some worse than others and most go through it repeatedly, but they all go through it. Why? Simple. People change. We like to think that's not the case, but it is. Circumstances change and circumstances change people. What you (plural, as in you the couple) were like before one of you lost a job, picked up a stray pet or read the other one's messages on Blackberry, (I don't recommend any of these if you can avoid it) is not what you are like now. The lack of money added pressure, the pressure made you miserable and the misery made you fight. The pet was cute enough, but old, tired and pooped on everything. The stray went everywhere with one of you (when the other wasn't invited) and the one who got left behind became insecure, suspicious and jealous, which lead to misery and of course, misery led to fighting. And those BB messages, well, they made the one who read them a little psychotic. Then you both got miserable, started fighting and ended up on an episode of 'Snapped'. (Just kidding.) (Sorta.)

Crap happens. Promise you, it does. They don't teach you this in school (or some other vital stuff you'd think is worthy of a mention) but in every relationship, crap happens. So there you are, your crispy cereal got left out on the counter, lost come of the crunch and then the milk sat next to the stove too long and started to go sour. (Sigh).

You can call it quits and move on. You can throw the milk down the drain and get a fresh batch. Shoot, you can even try a new flavour of milk or switch to soy. Go for it! But let's be honest, while this is perfectly easy for some, (oh the envy), for others, this will hurt so much you feel like you're trying to blow your kidneys out through your nose. That doesn't mean you can't walk away, just know that walking is not always the easy path.

Think what you have is worth saving? Then start churning! Make it work. Take that sour milk and make it into something else - butter, yogurt, ice cream, cottage cheese (does anyone eat cottage cheese?). It may not be what it was before, but that doesn't mean it can't still be good. I must caution however, that you are both going to need to agree on this. If not, one of you is going to feel pretty dumb a few months down the road and you may end up with other issues. So you've been churning and you got yourself a nice, smooth, velvety butter now, right? But who wants to eat butter and cereal? Yet you're surprised when partner moved on to toast... (Feel kinda silly now huh?) Still, for some, (those who churn together), this will work. Some will suddenly discover yogurt or ice cream covered in cereal with a little less crunch is exactly what they wanted. And some couples will repeat this process a few times during the course of their relationship and a lifetime later, still be happy.

But sometimes, though you didn't quit at the first sign of trouble, and though you were both willing to try and churn at it, sometimes, it just doesn't work. Sometimes cereal can be enjoyed alone, without adding milk to the equation. Sometimes that turning milk needs to work through a whole other process and perhaps become cheese. And in some cases, even though when it doesn't work it may hurt, keeping the cereal and milk separate may be best for both the cereal (that won't get soggy) and the milk (that's better off with cookies).

When asked, I will always tell you, at one point, we were the perfect pair. But for now, I'm keeping the cereal in the fridge. And for awhile, in my world, cereal will be served dry. 

A Walk in my Loveless Shoes

You don't love me anymore. You'll be quick to deny it, but it's true, you don't.

I don't know what I did, or didn't do, to cause it. I didn't 'mash your corns' as they say, nor did I cause them. (At least, not that I am aware of). I don't know how it happened or when, but I'll never forget moment I realised it. When I first realised the emptiness inside me would not be filled by you again. 

It didn't happen suddenly. I didn't feel that you loved me one minute and just didn't the next.  It was a gradual awakening to the realisation. Like the gradual darkening of sky as the sun sets behind horizon and the night settles over land. Actually, now I often ponder how long it took me to notice. How long did I look at the beautiful colours of setting sun and fail to notice the impending fall of darkness.

I first realised things had changed when you didn’t have time for anymore. Before I was the centre of your world, we were together all the time. But then you were always too busy, there was so much to do and there was so little time left over for us to be together. Later you promised. Always later. Only later never came.

I made excuses on your behalf, (at first) but that would soon pass. Sometime later, I’d come to see the truth. But the moment I knew for sure your love had faded, much like the setting sun, was the last time I saw you. There was something so final in your step as you walked away. Then I saw the colourful sky was merely illusion, a reflection of nothing but dimming light. We had walked together but somehow I knew you were now going to walk a different path, a path without me.

I cling to memories of a better time. And glorious times we had. I even believe that for awhile we were happy. The loss of your love pains me. There’s emptiness in my inner sole where you once were. But I wish you well, wherever you go, may all your steps be filled with love, a love which is unlike mine, is always returned.

Love always,

Your (Last) Non-designer Shoes

Love Lost

If you ask me, falling in love is a highly over-rated concept. I’d much rather fall into something useful. Like Oreos. Or M&M’s. Definitely M&M’s. (With almonds). But of course, no-one is asking me.

So here we are, in the month of love. (Blah, blah, blah). Gone is the celebration of one sainted day, now we celebrate every day in February, (or so we are supposed to believe), a whole month of love. I prefer December, the month of ham and rum. But there again, no-one was asking my opinion.

By now you may have determined I’m a bit grumpy about the whole thing and it’s only day two. It’s all the hand-cut paper hearts in the retail stores and the website pop-ups of Miracle Grow fed, English, red roses. All that mushy stuff gets me down. Why? Because it’s not real. The whole thing is about as true as Pamela Anderson’s boobs, Jessica Simpson’s brain or Paris Hilton’s hair. That’s right, it’s all fake. This, the-sponsored-by-Hallmark month, is not about love.

We’ve forgotten how to love each other.

We’ve forgotten the little things. Please, thank-you, have a nice day. A polite nod, a soft smile. Waiting for the other person to reply before walking away, when someone took the time to ask “how are you?”.

We don’t know our neighbors. Shucks, we hardly know our friends. And the new concept of a family gathering is a group chat via messenger. (If you needed me to insert BlackBerry before messenger to clarify, you’re officially out-dated.)

We’ve forgotten the kind things. Giving to charity. Feeding the hungry. Clothing the homeless. Reading to the children at your local library and taking the time to make Billy Goat Gruff sound, well, gruffy.

We only volunteer for points, give for discounts and buy pets from fancy pet stores while the adoption centre at the RSPCA would gladly give you Bucket (the dog that looks suspiciously like a rat) for free.

We’ve forgotten the classic things. Central locking has somehow replaced opening the car door for the other person. Pulling out a chair. Flowers just because. Home burnt dinner by candle-light. Breakfast in bed. (Cereal does not count). An honest compliment. A kiss on the wrist. Even a postcard brought to you by grinning mailman (because you know read he read it on the walk over), has disappeared with the birth of the text message.

We simply forgot.

Yet, (thankfully), a few of us still remember it all. I don’t know my neighbors, but otherwise, I think I’m on the right track. And if I can drag a few of you along, I think we can really make a difference. We're going to do it all. (And we're not even going to wear red. Or a cape.) The little things that make for a good day. The kind things that make a good day for others. And the classic things that make for wild romances and sometimes even make someone fall in love. 

Ok, so maybe falling in love isn’t so bad. But the truth is, if we can get the rest of it right too, then we’d really have something worth falling for. If we can remember to love each other, honestly, in little ways, kind acts and classic gestures, not just this month, but all the time, then that would be just, well, lovely.