mother knows best

mothers mean well. they aim to shape us and teach us. in their hearts, they dearly wish us to avoid the mistakes they made. (even if life already has shown them that's not very likely.)

problem is, most teenagers are arrogant -- that double-whammy of immaturity and optimism.

"love is never enough in a relationship."

she said it any number of times, but i could only see how it played on the stage of my family. she and my father had married right out of high school, for all the wrong reasons, then divorced when i was quite young. years later, when i asked if she had loved my father, she replied, " i thought i did."

finding herself in the then shameful and unfashionable role of struggling single mom, she based her next choice of husband on his ability to provide -- generously. growing up, i could see he loved her very much. it never seemed she felt the same, and i watched her chafe and grow embittered inside the big house and expensive cars.

i saw both their pain and unhappiness and i was determined my fate would be different.

"love is never enough."

most early "loves" really are more about lust anyway, so they're fairly easy to shake off and move on. they're the practice runs, and i never was foolish enough to walk down the aisle with one of them. i very much wanted love to be enough.

i met what seemed to be a keeper. friends liked him, he was romantic and thoughtful, ambitious and we wanted many of the same things. shortly after we became engaged, he began a ragged spiral into such an unholy hell of alcohol and lies that the police became a regular presence in my life. i thought my love could lead him to detox, knowing deep down he was a good man. if i stood firm he'd see his way to sobriety. but the grip of his addiction was too tight, and i feared for both of our lives. finally court-ordered him to rehab, and i was done. he cost me a fortune financially and emotionally. i knew i had let fly too many red flags before saving myself.

i also saw he loved me, but not himself.

"love is never enough."

at last, i met one for whom it seemed it was. he didn't want to, but he fell. so did i. difference is i continue to fall. for years, i swam happily in a warm unfathomable well of contentment. he watched me paddle along with a sense of proprietary beneficence. he always swore i'd reach a *bottom*, or some sort of plateau and each day i awake amazed at the endlessness of it. in this one thing, i proved him wrong. i feel helpless in its onslaught, but calmed by its reality, and empowered by its strength.

i finally began to think my mother was wrong.

she wasn't. (but you all saw that coming, right?)

i still hold it and take my center from it, but now my love can affect and change nothing. (could it have ever? not here, not with him, no...) its object is all i want, but he's sliding the lid on the well. lid gets nudged a bit more everyday, so in his mind i grow quieter, and in his heart i recede.

truly, i don't mind the silence and the stillness, really i don't. but if he pushes the lid into its final slot and hammers in the nails, how will ever i ever get out of the well? trust me, lassie will not come looking for this sodden wench.

oh, and my mother? i can't even tell her she's right...