Greenlights

by Matthew McConaughey

I believe trying to maintain a honeymoon glow in a relationship is a fool’s errand fantasy. Worse yet, it’s unfair to the two lovers trying to maintain it. It’s a 120-watt bulb that burns too hot to last. No one can live up to the pedestal we put them on if we always put them on one. As well, when we only see our lover as a superhuman, our reflection in their eyes makes us one to them in theirs. Then we’re both for rent, because we’re both unobtainable. The honeymoon, like Hollywood, is an animated movie. It’s larger than life, not a reality we should expect to see once we exit the theater. Where we live. Where our humanity lives. Where our secrets, scars, fears, hopes, and failures reside. This is what comes after the credits roll. Where real love cares, hurts, understands, falls down, and gets back up. Where it’s not easy, but we get to honestly try. The twenty-watt bulb isn’t enough light to show the way if I expect you to be Wonder Woman and you only see me as Mr. Incredible. The hundred-watt honeymoon bulb is superhuman. By design. It’s the beginning, the first time, the birth. That’s why it’s called a honeymoon, not a marriage. It’s not obtainable, or sustainable.