An Unexpected Paradise

by Chelsea Curto

“Verbally sparring with you is the highlight of my day, Josephine.” The comment sounds like a growl, low and throaty.

I’ll take reliving my first period every day for the rest of my life over him.

I doubt much has changed. Love makes you believe idiotic, moronic things, like the man of your dreams can be the same one who consistently verbally berates you, or the way to get over a breakup is a dramatic haircut. Neither are accurate.

There’s no way to sugarcoat this. You are sweet, and I am not. I’m sorry. For so many things.

you’re not a dark soul. You’re simply searching for the light. There’s a big difference.”

“You’re trying, even if you aren’t whole yet. Sometimes, that’s what is most important. Sometimes, trying is half the battle.”

Small, unassuming things make her happy, I’ve learned; they illuminate her face like a Christmas tree. Like when she found out I knew her tea order.

When I wake up before my alarm and realize I have another hour to sleep. Fall mornings when you need a light jacket to stay warm, a crispness in the air. Abby. My family. Dogs. I love dogs. What makes me happiest right now is knowing one day, life is going to be better than this.”

“You plague my thoughts, Josephine. Day after day. You haunt my dreams, an inescapable cycle. And you brighten my darkest, most sorrowful nightmares, lighting up my gloomy world like a million lanterns. Hate you? I could never, ever hate you. I’ve never felt something so strongly before in my life, and it’s confusing as hell. Frustrating. Exhausting. But god, so fucking worth it.”

Her and my dad didn’t have a lot of similarities. She liked being loud, he prefers to be quiet. She liked being centerstage, while he’s content hiding off-camera. But they worked, you know? They challenged each other.

You haven’t made a mold. You give me the materials to craft my own shapes.

A man. A flawed man. This man. A man with baggage, a heartbreaking past, and the fear of not being good enough. A man who waits for me to finish cutting my food and orders extra of the dishes I like. A man who holds my hand while I confront my demons, rubbing my back and whispering kind, empowering words in my ear. A man who fights for me, stands up for me, but also backs down when I’m ready to tackle a problem on my own. A man who keeps the coffee cups I deliver, prickly facade cracking with every witty, funny insult I toss his way. A man who has started to smile more, scowl less, and open up.