I give you fair warning, this is bound to be a rather long, rambling and introspective post. 

If you are a glutton for punishment, read on. 

Madeline gave me a copy of The Waste Land and Other Poems for my birthday this year, which was the best gift I received, bar none.

To be perfectly honest, I've never really read any T.S. Eliot, and I am not really a poetry sort of chap. It's not that I am against it, I've just never been able to wrap my head around it. Her note on the inside cover points towards "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock", and I've read it a hundred times or more since receiving the gift. 

I've tried hard to evaluate what exactly Eliot is telling me (and in turn what Madeline is telling me), and I am rather proud to say that I've resisted all urges to consult outside opinions. I figure it's my interpretation that matters, not someone elses. 

Last night as I lay in bed, exhausted but not tired, I re-read it a few times. I think I finally know what it means, and what it means to me.

Prufrock is an old man. Perhaps younger than he feels, but certainly an old man. His life is stagnant and without satisfaction, but he seems to lack enough motivation to fix it. But his life really isn't the dilemma, it's his love of a woman. He is complacent and fearful of change, yet he is at the point where he wants to profess his love. The poem itself seems to be an internal struggle to find the words to tell her how he feels, and perhaps an argument to do nothing.

His self doubt leads him to believe that if he comes clean, she will be dismissive, destroying him. The poem closes without a decision from Prufrock, but if I were to guess, I would bet that he talks himself out of saying a word to her.

When I received the book, I didn't get the poem. Arguably, perhaps I still don't. By my interpretation, the timing of the gift couldn't be more perfect. You see, I love Madeline very much, and she now knows this. To be blunt, I can't imagine myself spending my life with anyone else. She knows this as well. The irony of all this is, when I got the book, I was struggling as Prufrock. 

I've always been pretty lousy with relationships, and even worse with real committment. The very notion of marriage was at best a joke, and at worse a terrifying prospect. It's not that I am afraid to spend my life with someone, it's that I've been afraid to subject them to me.

Early on, I worried about everything. My age would be a factor (I am several years older), the inevitable end of the "honeymoon" phase, her reciprocal feelings, etc etc etc. To be fair, sometimes I wake up at night and I discover these worries are still hanging around, by morning they are gone again though.

So here I am, in the middle (sort of) desert with my thoughts.  Madeline is a thousands of miles away, with nothing more than a promise and a cheap ring (not that kind of ring) to bring me back to her. But you know what? I will go back. And in due course I will call her fiancée, and when that gets comfortable, I will call her wife. And while I find the whole thing exciting, I find that it feels more comfortable. This is right, everything about it is right. 

I don't really have much of a plan for my future. I would prefer not to work for the company for the rest of my life, but right now this is an important stepping stone. I am miserable without her by my side, but I will survive it. I think I want to own my own business, and I am pretty sure I want to live in the country somwhere. I don't know if I want kids (which seems moot, because she does). Maybe that can all wait, and we can travel the world having adventures and living dirt poor. Maybe we can work towards the 80s dream of yuppie-dom somewhere in New England. It doesn't really matter. 

I used to get physically ill wondering about my future. Try as I might, sometimes I just couldn't ignore it and I would think until I freaked out or puked, or both. The crazy thing is, I don't care anymore. I always tried really hard not to care, or at least give that appearance, but for the first time I can really remember, I just don't give a shit. And it's not that I am apathetic. I've done that. I haven't given up, I am just not worried about the road ahead. I know things will turn out, and if they don't, I can still move forward. No matter how bad things have gotten in the past, somehow I've always managed to cruise along. This realization coupled with Madeline has given me a new perspective. 

Money is important, and it certainly makes life easier. But if I lost everything, my job, my car, whatever. I still have the one (cliched) thing that money can't buy. Madeline doesn't complete me, that's a stupid thought. But she improves me, changes me.

I am not afraid of Prufrocks mermaids.