Only human

I don't want to be satisfied about this. It feels too much like leaning back on my laurels, self-assured and pompous, just asking to be taken down a peg or two by the young seeker who brings the naive daring that only the fearless can know, to solve these age-old equations.

I tell myself I am only human, when I reflect on this glow I feel within after our conversations. Only human, to feel glad at your fumblings, like a baby learning to walk. I smile at your cuteness as you stumble around trying to learn your balance. And what is wrong with being human, reminiscing on this glorious sameness that all relationships go through as I watch you with your new girlfriend/boyfriend?

I have heard your judgments about other people's immaturity. You have cast your vote on tradition and the correct way to behave in relationships. Declared your hatred for flowers and gifts and mushy endearments. And today you tell me of this beautiful, wonderful human being who is your significant other, so sensible and mature despite what happened today. And you say you will never use such callous words with them, the kind I just told you worked for someone else. Your lover is far better, more refined and urbane and genteel.

I tell you love is love, and bills and insurance and the trappings of life will always be what they are. I tell you that regardless of degrees and paychecks, a broken heart will always feel what all broken hearts have felt, independent of space and time and language. But of course, the two of you are different.

So I lie back on my tales, smile and wait for you to catch up. A chronicler of stories, a gatherer of life-experience. And I try not to be too self-satisfied about it. But I am only human, just like you and your lover and everybody else.