A few weeks ago, my pal, Jennifer, left me a contemplative voice mail that I haven't been able to forget. She'd purchased a bag of apricots and while the majority of them were unfit for eating, two or three of the little orange buggers were perfectly beyond delicious. "Was it worth buying the whole bag of shitty apricots just to experience the joy of those exquisite few?" she asked my answering machine. It had no answers for her, only rude beeps, so she hung up.
Jen's Bag O'Fruit inquiry launched me in to deep contemplation. In one way or another, I've been asking myself that same question over and over again with regards to my recent romantic drama. Was it worth the current heartache plus a lifetime of never knowing what really happened just to be ridiculously over-the-moon in love for just those four short months? Was experiencing the drastic beauty of all that daily correspondence worth today's crushing weight of silence? Was the act of taking the Big Dive more important than the fact that there was not even one goddamn drop of water in the pool?
I believe that what passes for the modern sage (Hallmark, Oprah, Citibank, Dr. Phil) might reiterate the trite belief that 'it is better having loved and lost than never having loved at all.' Of course, none of these folks/corporate entities moved across country just so they could live a mile from their ex, I'm sure.
Naturally, the question goes far beyond matters of a broken heart. Was it worth my concussion to learn how to snowboard? No. Was hosting a giant ravenous worm in my hip worth three months camping in Africa? Yes. Was it worth getting thrown in jail for public indecency back in the '80s? Um, not sure - I can't remember.
But the current question remains: Was my effort to move to Denver worth the pain of having the love I moved here for evaporate almost immediately? It seems much too early to tell but I suppose I should look on the bright side:
Apricots are in season.