Alchemy

Romance is tough. If you believe in the thunderbolt of love at first sight then you’re stuck waiting for it. Or like a dare-devil meteorologist you track it in a rusted out truck, going to the places you know it to strike. And if you’re unsure of the legitimacy of feeling something huge all at once, you may be in a worse position. Because then you’re stuck working at it, unsure about everything, and playing with not just your own feelings but with those of another. What I’ve got to remember is that the thunderbolt usually has a radius of impact. It doesn’t sneak up on the person next to you and leave them suddenly staring at you with huge, loving eyes. For me at least, there’s a window of time where two people are both working at it—romantic alchemy of sorts. Experimentation is alright. And so is failure. Admitting that your lead is still lead. Admitting that you still have absolutely no idea where gold comes from. Romance is really, even with the advent of online dating, a pre-scientific process. Cave paintings. I’m left smearing colored ink on cold stone walls because it feels good and maybe just maybe answers all of the big questions.