Still the romantic at heart (sometimes)

I watched the movie 17 Again tonight - the second time I've seen it now. I bought the DVD for $10 recently, I liked it well enough to pay that at least.

It stars a young up-and-coming actor named Zac Efron, and also Matthew Perry from the show Friends. Perry plays the older version of Efron's character.

Perry's version is losing everything in his life, his wife, his kids, his job, his very identity.

Oh, I think I could relate.

It made me think of my own situation. No, it's not as bad as his. I get along better with my kids, at least I do at this time. I hope that never changes. But I know kids want so badly to hurry up and grow to adulthood. I just hope I never become as alienated from my kids as he did from his.

The job? Feh. I don't miss that. OK, I miss the people - well, most of them. I miss working on the charity committee. But I don't miss the company, my boss, or the duties I had to perform.

Perry/Efron's character wants things to work out in the marriage. And after watching that movie tonight I realized I still had that desire in me. I thought it had died, it may currently be on life-support, but reports of it's demise are premature.

I don't know. It may be too late. Many things have transpired, we each have brought a load of fuel to the bonfire threatening the marriage. It would take a bloody miracle from God himself at this point.

I want the romance, silly as that may sound coming from a 43 year old man. I want the closeness back. I want the friendship, the laughter, cuddling on a cold morning, and feeling like I am connected with another human being. I miss the hugs and kisses I often got when I least expected them, like when I was cooking dinner. If we could make the kids go "ewwwww", I figured we were doing it right.

No, I don't expect perfection, but I know for a FACT things can be 10000000000000 times better than they are now.

I feel like there are two cold, empty, lonely ghosts drifting through our house these days. A forced civility and desperate attempts at levity. A silent agreement not to speak of anything other than the news, weather, or the movie we just watched.

That isn't living. It's almost dead.