Friday, December 6, 2013

You Don't Bring Me Flowers

The eternal divide. You don't bring me flowers, you don't sing me love songs.

The wife had been moody, distant, silent, angry. I'm wondering, 'What's wrong? What happened?' I'm trying to cover all the bases. Have I worked hard enough? Have I forgotten a significant date? Did I say or do something hurtful? Or has she found someone else? Is she struggling with conflicting emotions?

Life, it seems, had been going along just fine -- just regular, just normal, just the usual.

Well, of course, that's just it. The invisible 'it', from the man's perspective. Who knew?

You don't bring me flowers anymore. I kiss you, but you never kiss me. You roll over and go to sleep.

No matter what else you had done -- no matter what daily cares routinely addressed, tasks accomplished, issues put in order -- it doesn't matter.

You've forgotten to send flowers. You've forgotten to hold her hand. You've forgotten to kiss her hello and goodbye.

Who would have thought that life's little troubles come with such an easy fix?

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