Sunglasses

I lost  a pair of sunglasses the other day.

I had on Jackie O shades the same color of ripe grapefruit flesh.

Double lenses dipped in Elmer’s glue-thick fuchsia.

My glasses were more than rose-colored.

They were completely covered.

And I didn’t even know I had them on.

Until they were off.

The last time I saw them, I was talking to a recently betrothed friend.

Michaela’s usually playful demeanor was more serious than usual.

More sober.

She and her fiancé had decided to write their own wedding vows.

And she had come down with a writer’s block of sorts.

She said,

“I struggle with writing these vows because I break promises. 

I feel their weight.”

When you are pledging before the one you love and the One who loves and created both of you, it is a serious matter.

But what type of oath can you make?

How can I promise to forever, always, and until death when it’s difficult just promising for tomorrow?

Wait a second.

I remember having my sunglasses on when I went to see another friend.

Because my tears were pink.

A man she knew and loved for 15 years had left her.

For another woman, it seemed.

She mourned the break-up and tried to move on.

But in the lowest southeast corridor of her heart, she believed he would be back and that he was the one.

But the candle she held for him was blown out when news of his wedding reached her.

The event sent her into a spiral of despair.

As she wept, she tried to comfort herself with the prospect of his unhappy marriage, a thought that would still leave the door for her wide open.

The situation burdened my heart with sadness and questions.

Is love so unattainable and rare that it can flee at a moment’s notice?

Do diamonds really have to convince a buyer that they are worthy of purchase?

How much time and energy do we waste pining for someone who isn’t designed for us in the first place?

I lost  a pair of sunglasses the other day.

I had on Jackie O shades the same color of ripe grapefruit flesh.

Double lenses dipped in Elmer’s glue-thick fuchsia.

My glasses were more than rose-colored.

They were completely covered.

And I didn’t even know I had them on.

Until they were off.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s