I don’t want sunshine with bright, cloudless skies; I don’t want bunnies and singing birds. I don’t want rainbows hosting glittering colors. I want gray fog to envelope us, making it hard to see what’s in front; I want storms to brew, dark clouds and howling winds; I want booming thunder and rain heavily rattling the windows.
I don’t want calm; I don’t want smooth sailing on water as clear as glass on some unsinkable ship, being propelled by a perfect breeze. I want intimidating cracks and holes; I want impending despair; rough patches and towering waves that threaten to knock it all over and wear us down.
I don’t want to walk along a neat and steady path; I don’t want maps or compasses pointing toward exactly where to go; I don’t want comfortable. I want stubbornness and refusal to ask for directions; I want wrong turns that wind up with us getting completely lost; I want missteps; I want steep and jagged roads, littered with stones, leading up mountains.
I don’t want to be an exact match, the ones people idealize; I don’t want to be an example of everything done right, the one couples want to be; I don’t want us to be able to finish each other’s sentences and read each other’s thoughts. I want to be our own separate individuals; I want wrong things spoken at the wrong time; I want confusion and miscommunication; second guesses and questions of what are we thinking? I want us to make mistakes, to wonder if we are a mistake.
I don’t want simple compromises and avoiding conflict at all costs; I don’t want convenience or easy. I want there to be arguments and disagreements, even over things that seem mundane; I want words and truths thrown; I want us to walk out and give one another space and time, without glancing back; I want times where we wonder if we’ve run out of tries and chances, if this time should be the last time.
I don’t want to be the center of their world, or their mine; the one they’d be willing to give up everything for in a heartbeat. I want them to hold on tight to their dreams and passions, for them to look me in the eye and promise the same for myself; I want the things that make them, them, and me, me, to remain; I want us to be selfish, not willing to sacrifice a single thing of ourselves.
I don’t want perfection; I don’t want a romance for the ages, one that inspires endless poetry and musical compositions. I want trouble and unrest; I want messy slates we say we’ll clean, but know we’ll just dirty all over again; I want obstacles, predicaments, difficulties.
I don’t want a fantasy; I want real.
I don’t want a classic, predictable happily ever after. I want to be assured that as beautiful as receiving a happily ever after is, it could be just as extraordinary when we don’t.