People of the Moment

     "It's not enough," she whispered.

     "I can give you right now," I started.  "I can give you this moment.  I have no idea what forever holds but I know that I am here right now."

     "It's not enough," she repeated quietly.

     "There is no promise of tomorrow or forever but there is now.  All I'm asking for is this minute.  I would love for you to forget about everything else and just give me now.  Can you do that?  Can you let me keep you company for a little while?"

     I had watched promises of forever fall apart in a few years, sometimes a few weeks.  As long as I was willing to accept the consequences of my actions I found that the moment rarely disappointed.

     I always seemed to lose the moment when I chased forever.  I became complacent when I knew something would always be there.  I had watched people chase the big picture and ignore the little things.  The thought process seemed to be that the overall end justified the means.  I had watched the compromises come back to haunt them in the end.

     People I know that live for the moment appreciate each and every second like it were their last.  They ask themselves the question, 'If everything were to end for me right now and someone were to judge me for my last few moments how would I be remembered?' 

     Big picture people are surprised when couples break up over what looks to be an innocuous mistake from the outside.  People who live for the moment see all of the small mistakes that lead to the final break up.

     People of the moment move with the knowledge that the future is uncertain but you should prepare just in case you make it and things work out.

     "I think I deserve the promise of forever," she said.  "I think that this would be cheapening things.  I think by avoiding forever you are avoiding building a future with someone.  I need to know that I can count on you for that future.  It's not that I can't keep you company for a a little while.  I don't want to.

     "If you can promise me forever," she said resolutely, "I can give you this moment."

     I covered my mouth with my hand and stared at the table.  I could see the flickering candle through my empty wine glass.  The moon drew my eyes toward the patio beyond the French doors.

     The moment was gone and so was I.  We were no match for her forever.  I had accepted the consequences of my actions but as I drove home alone in silence I couldn't help but feel a little disappointed.