A New Bloom

She watched the people around her and wondered why they were so miserable.Being together was supposed to be better than being alone, those people often quipped,yet their daily squabbles,complaints to co-workers,and snarky interactions with one anothersuggested something completely different.They curled a lip when she didn’t join in –‘You guys don’t argue?’ they always asked.’Nope,’ she always answered.And it was true:Sixteen years and not one fight:when he was alive, they would sneak behind her back, ask him,and were even more irritated because he gave the same answer:Sixteen years and not one fight.They didn’t think their thing was unusual,even though they were unusual.A creative man,an irregular woman,puzzle pieces that seemed only to match eeach other in an uncommon relationship.She continues on The Path,still irregular,but trusting thatsuch relationships are not so uncommon.

Before Christopher Left for the other side of the Rainbow Bridge, people would wrinkle their noses at us because we never had a fight. Nothing, we would both often say, is worth fighting over — we can talk it out. Did we ever become cross with one another? Of course! I drove him mad with all my computer tinkering. He’d get quite cross because I would stay online for hours, or I’d stay up nearly all night reimaging a machine. I’d get cross at him when he’d leave the house and not say anything — I’d look for him to ask a question and he would be gone. I have a thing about leaving and not saying goodbye since one never knows when it might be the last time. Yes, cross! But fight? Yell? Argue? Not talk? Say nasty things? Talk smack about each other to our friends or family? Never. Not in 16 years. Everyone we met thought we were aliens or crazy. ‘Everyone fights,’ they’d say.’Not us,’ we’d reply.It was what many identified as an uncommon relationship. And us as irregular people — differently irregular, but …Now, it’s just me. Still irregular.But not without hope.