Innocence Lost

As a 31 year old woman, I think one would expect that I would be all grown up. In some ways, I suppose I am. I have a woman's body, I have my first few wrinkles, discovered botox, gray hair, and I can't go out partying like I used to. However, in many ways, probably the ways that matter more, I feel like I am a child, coming of age.

I was asked a question about choosing a mate, and upon thinking about it, when I got married, I certainly wasn't thinking about "choosing a mate", I was simply doing what I thought I was supposed to do when you're in love: Get Married.  I thought I was old enough (20 years young) to make that decision, and I certainly can tell you, that no one would have been able to talk me out of it. I am an entirely different person that I was when I was 20. Just saying the number "twenty" and "getting married",  together in the same sentence, out-loud, sounds preposterous. If someone I knew was getting married at 20, I would think they were crazy! Did people think I was crazy, and simply kept it to themselves? I don't really care one way or the other if they did, but it is an interesting question.

I was thinking about when I moved to Irvine, CA for a fateful week.  Trying to transfer colleges, and ultimately getting duped by the, oh-so-christian-concordia, college system. I had to return to Portland. I was thinking about how much Andy and I were in love then. He was so happy to see me when I returned. I remember like it was yesterday, seeing him at my parents house - there is even a picture of us on that day, smiles as big and bright as the sun. We were young, innocent, lovers.

I saw a boy, roller skating down the street, with a red rose in his hand. He was skating, swiftly down the road, on what I will assume to be, his lovers home.  If only love could stay as simple as that rose. But like the rose, with time, love withers and dies. Petals fall to the ground to become swept up in the dust that becomes our lives.