Where Is The Day You Used To Inspire Me? Where Is The Time I Used To Depend? On The Relief Of Your Anchor I Thought I'd Never Need

--"Won't Be The Same", Dance Hall Crashers

I finished reading through all one hundred seventy-five pages of The Carisa Meridian today. One of the many points I noticed was the fact that a key incident to several chapters is a much-discussed "break" the narrator takes from his girlfriend at the time during college. I made it central to their relationship that they were well-suited to one another--almost too well-suited. I talked about they never really fought with another, preferring to solve their problems in civil discussions and hushed tones, ending usually with them making up without ever solving the inciting incident.

At first, I thought them ever separating from one another, even for a short period, was a lapse in continuity. Here there are supposed to be this super couple that never has arguments or even disagreements passionate enough to be noteworthy. How is it that they could ever rise to a level of animosity that would lead them to a trial separation? It didn't make sense to me at first. If you're not even perturbed enough to raise your voice, then you shouldn't be at a level of annoyance to seek distance from the individual who is causing you problems.

However, once I remembered the context of the period I was writing these chapters, it all made sense. The thirteen chapters of the novel I possess so far were written during the time period where Breanne weren't talking for a few months. I suppose it was rather easy for me to get into the mindset where having a pair of people who were rather fond of one another and yet were fed up with one another enough to not be on speaking terms made sense to me. After all, it's what was happening at the time. Granted, I would never go so far as to say we never raised our voices with one another or that we never had disagreements strong enough to make the case for a permanent separation viable, but at the time I think we did resemble the narrator and Tierney in the sense that two people so right for each other still can still fray one another's nerves. Even the two most perfect people for one another can still go wrong in how they relate to each other in so many ways. That's the point I think I was trying to make in the inclusion of a long-ago "break" between an otherwise picture of domestic bliss.

In the story the narrator refers often to this time as being one he would most likely to gloss over when it comes to the retelling of his life story. He never exactly mentions how long the separation actually lasted, but from my understanding it seemed to have only last four or maybe five months. And yet it's telling that those four or five months he's constantly referencing as being the only time he can point to as being unhappy with the way he and his wife got along. Everyday before then and after then (barring, of course, the time period the novel actually portrays is currently happening) has been marked as being more smiles than tears, and more laughter than shouting.

I think that comes from my own experience with Lucy and me. I can't tell you every matter that we've ever fought over, but I can tell you every time it's resulted in us not talking for any great length of time. I can't tell you why we ever said hateful things or the actual hateful things all the time, but I can tell you when it's resulted in one or both parties taking it effectively to heart.

That's how it is with fighting and arguing, the only thing people remember after a few years is the consequences. There really isn't any fight worth noting for the reasons that caused it. There really isn't any argument worth remembering for the exact word-for-word account. Often times the only that gets remembered is what the result was and how it often outstrips any memory of its root causes. It's plain to see that my own regrets of fights I've picked with people--Jina, DeAnn, Tommy, John, &c...--seeped its way into the novel because there's a very noticeable nostalgic bent to the plot. It's basically a story all about a man who idealizes the time he had twenty years prior and who can't reconcile that fact with the reality that his current situation doesn't quite match up to the memories he made all those years ago.

I know of what he thinks. A lot of my experience is tainted with the idea that there were decisions I made which weren't always fully thought out. There are whole chunks of years I wasted stubbornly refusing to make-up with people over perceived slights that, in the end, were never as memorable as the destruction that came about because of my reaction to them. I get that.

It's funny--even when I was trying to decipher what I was going for by having him mention the "break" several times, I always understood the emotion behind the references. I'm fully versed in the particular pain of being on the outs with someone and feeling like there is no way to get back in with them. I understand that completely.

It's just weird to think of how little things have changed since five years ago when I was first working on this book.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers