I Love You So So So Much, I Could Die Right Here, Right Now; It’s Almost Exactly Like That Other Time When I…

self-portrait circa many years ago.

I love you so so so so so so so so much, I could die right here, right now; just like this, next to you, here, in this way.  No other moment in my life can top this one. I’m sure of it.  It’s almost exactly like the only other time I thought I should die right then and there, for I was certain everything else that would follow it would surely not be able to compare.

other self-portrait studies

It was only one other time- one singular other moment in my life where I thought I should die right then and there; and it occurred when I was ten years old, and I filled my mother’s giant bathtub with hot water and bubble bath solvent.  I created mountains upon mountains of suds, and sank my scrawny frame in.  But before doing so, I had brought with me to the bathtub a pickle.  Yes, indeed, an entire. dill. pickle.  I stuck a fork right through its middle, and brought it upstairs with me to the bathtub.  I also brought with me a small condiments dish in which I could rest said pickle. And that I had remembered to do so brought me great pleasure, for the last time I tried to get in the bathtub with a pickle, and found that I needed to do something which required both of my hands being in the water, I discovered that I had no place to put my pickle, which made it so that the only reasonable option I was left with was holding the pickle in my mouth- and you know my mouth was (and still is) small, and my mouth strength was (and still is) limited, and a pickle is large, and heavy with water and vinegar, not to mention the added weight of the large stainless steel fork unwieldily dangling from the pickle- which, all compounded together, made for an incredibly unpleasant experience.  It was so unpleasant, it lead me to reflect deeply upon the event afterwards, and come up with an intricate plan as to how I could avoid this problem the next time I wished to enter the bathtub with a pickle; hence, the miraculous discovery of bringing along a small condiments dish, with which to rest my pickle-ly goodness in.

I had also on this occasion, brought to the bathtub with me a Harry Potter book- one of the later, thicker installments, of which I was already a couple of hundred pages into. The crowning moment of this particular achievement was that I had also brought with me a small towel- a towel which would prove to be crucial to the enjoyment of the experience, for the last time I had attempted the maneuver of reading in the bathtub, I had gotten the book wet, for after having to do whatever it was I needed to do with both hands in the water, thus leaving a pickle with a fork dangling off of it to dangle from my mouth, I reached for my book- unthinkingly! - got the thing wet! and as a result got myself very upset. 

But not this time.  This time I was prepared.

Armed with my heavily curated assembly of accoutrement, I placed my little pickle dish down on the thick edge of the bathtub, held the fork with my pickle prize in one hand, and used my other hand to support me as I lowered myself into a perfectly warm, slightly too hot bath. Then, I placed my pickle in the dish, and dried my hands (for I had intentionally gotten them wet during the entry phase just so I could demonstrate the efficacy of, and then thereafter congratulate myself on, the fruits of my newly cultivated reflective and forward thinking nature).  Thus, with my dry hands, I reached for the Harry Potter book and opened it to the page from where I had left off.  Holding the giant book with one hand, I reached for the pickle with my other, and took a bite of it, then laid the pickle back down into its little dish.  And right then and there: pickle in mouth, not chewing, rather sucking on its vinegary bite, with my Harry Potter book opened to right where I had left off, with water still at the perfect temperature, suds still in their perfect Himalayan form, I thought: I should die.  Here I had used all the wisdom I had accrued over the course of my entire (very long ten year) life to overcome what was a most unpleasant experience.  Rather than allowing myself to remain wallowing in self-pity and loathing, I forced myself, (after first wallowing for just a bit), to enter into a period of reflection aimed towards building up my sense of self-worth, and my capability to solve problems; then actually solving the problem in theory; and then actually, finally executing said theory and thus, actually- 

getting.

it.

right.

I recall so distinctly in that moment thinking:  I should be taken out by a meteor right now.  Nothing can top this moment. Everything is going to be downhill from here.  

- And indeed, everything was downhill from there, except, of course, for this moment right here.  I would have been happy to have either died then, or here now, for I rank these two experiences: gracefully and successfully getting into a giant bubble bath in a giant bathtub, with a giant pickle in one hand and a giant book in the other; and being next to you, here, in this way-  in the overall grand story of my life, as being on the same level of bliss.

And for this, you should be flattered.

And for that, I hold up my pickle and say, Cheers!