Valentines Day, Lovers' Night - and we, Zack and I, sat at the bar in the Pub, silently observing the beaming crowd of paired up people in attendance at the Pub that night.  We were pretty much beaming ourselves, having so recently returned from a fabulously relaxing vacation in Mexico.  We were deeply tanned, lethargic with after glow and completely at peace.  We watched happiness shine brightly from so many of our friends' faces, as plans for the future were being enthusiastically discussed at length from all directions.

I listened intently as I studied my drink, not meaning to eavesdrop, but it was impossible not to be privy to what was being said so close to my range of hearing.  I slowly became aware of a growing emotion starting to build in me, and I found myself suddenly absurdly rebellious, truculent, and skeptical.  Jesus.  It was as if a bloody contagious plague of some kind had settled over everyone!  I was surrounded by it -- all around me -- rampant commitments, couples hooking up, romances, engagements, babies, up-coming marriages! 

Truth be told, it all rather pissed me off.  The magnitude of it was scaring me shitless.  I wasn't proud of the fact that I felt like I had a frozen smile of "isn't that wonderful" pasted on my face at every moment.  One after the other - dropping like flies - our friends were becoming "couples," boldly making life-changing commitments to one another right under our very noses. 

What was happening?  Was it something in the water?  On the seats?  Did they not know what incredible risks and pain they were blissfully opening themselves up to?  The agony?  The abandonment?  The heartache?  Are they all deranged?   

Zack had done it all before.  So had I.  The marriage thing.  His had been blissfully perfect.  Mine a disaster.  Both experiences, albeit different, left us with the same lingering pain and the knowledge that we had no desire to go through that agony again.  Zack's perfect marriage had ended tragically in the loss of his beloved wife in childbirth.  It left him with the conviction that he would rather die than relive a loss like that again. 

Mine had been a crazy, ill advised, spontaneous, adolescent mistake, based on the hero worship of a man who looked like a god in his dress blues.  It resulted in untold agonies of cheating, faithlessness, violence and substance abuse.  I may not have been in combat while in the Marines, but if you marry a Marine fresh back from a combat situation, you experience you own unique combat zone horrors.  I treasured my hard-earned single hood and had no desire to change it.   

Neither Zack nor I were in a hurry to repeat the pain we suffered in our past lives, so it seemed totally appropriate that we not rush headlong into the dramatic permanency of a lifetime commitment.  The truth was that we were both gun shy for entirely dissimilar reasons but with the same resulting phobia - avoidance of all things connubial.

He wasn't aware of it, but I watched Zack, especially at the Pub - studied him closely - as friend after friend joshed with him about his or her own relationships and questioned him about his.  I wondered what, if anything, he was thinking about what was spreading like wild fire amongst our friends.  Engagements, commitments, babies, weddings, home purchases, love affairs that blazed brightly, positively, hopefully - challenging the future - all of them eagerly and intrepidly facing uncertain futures without doubts, fears or pauses - sure of only one thing -- love.

He threw cryptic one liners back and forth with the guys but betrayed no inner struggles, conflicts or confusions about what he wanted out of life for himself or where he was going.  It was up the Bureau ladder, a life with me, and fun times with our circle of friends.  He seemed content with his situation - wanting nothing deeper.  Embrace today and screw tomorrow. 

Was he capable of deeper?  Was I?  Why was my mind telling me it was necessary that we delve deeper for even greater treasure, for more closeness, for total unity?  Were we capable of soul mate status?  Were we there already?  It felt like we were, but I was still cautious about some of the things I wanted to ask him.  I didn't want to reopen old wounds or give him reason to worry about where I was coming from.  He seemed so content and I loved seeing him that way.

If it's not broken, don't fix it.  So what the fuck was wrong with me?  Why this feeling of fear and resentment about all the upcoming changes?  What the hell did I want?  Marriage like Bud and Marie?  Did I want the commitment of babies and a mortgage like Scarlet and Hando?  Did I not always want exactly what I had now?  Love, excitement, unbelievable sex, and a challengingly real relationship without the usual ball and chain responsibilities?

I enjoyed taking it slow.  Zack seemed comfortable with that as well.  So why did witnessing all these ultimate relationship outcomes shake me up so badly and leave me feeling like we were the   odd ones out, missing something crucial in life, or that I myself was lacking some togetherness gene that everyone else had? 

I loved that Zack let me lead my own life within our life together, that he supported me in whatever I wanted to do and basically just loved me for me.  I suspected that in reality it shook him up a little too because he was at times rather cynical, cryptic in his humor, ironic, and seemed fearful of presenting as too jubilant and congratulatory to any of the lovers in our peer group.  He used black humor and jokes when he talked to Ann and Max, Hando, Terry, and John.  He was especially relentless with Bud, his best buddy, and teased Uma and Andy outrageously   He was nicer to Scarlet, Marie, Clarity and Gaia, treating them gently, and he never did chat with Cass after her reunion with Lachlan.  It was apparent, to me anyway, that there was something residual there, but he never discussed it.  He also never talked to Chili.  He has some odd ways, my Zack.  

He watched me fuss over Scarlet in the advanced stages of her pregnancy.  He observed me as I genuinely involved myself in Bud and Marie's wedding preparations.  He watched me as I, at first, seemed to shy away from these life-altering situations, but then I appeared to embrace the ultimate upcoming events with warmth, enthusiasm and acceptance.  

I could hear his wheels turning - Was this dedication to the happiness of our friends just for them or was I leaning toward similar changes myself?  He even seemed annoyed at times - as if surmising that this perfect party of a life we were leading was suddenly going to become threatened with the responsibilities of time and maturity and what he could perceive as my waffling needs. 

In the privacy of our bedroom, he openly declared that he adored me - that I turned him inside out - that I did it for him like no one else - that he wanted me every way his mind could conjure up - but I saw him struggle with what I read as pervasive thoughts of  ... Marriage?  Kids?  Again?  I was sure I read his mind correctly as I watched him become frozen with indecision, and seemed resistant to make any changes in a life he viewed as perfect. 

If I didn't share his vision of our unique togetherness maybe he needed to know that now.

We turned toward each other at the bar as if on cue, and spoke - completely in unison.  

"We need to talk."

"Oh, God ..."

"This is usually the prelude to a break up ..."

"Are we breaking up?"

We suddenly grinned at each other's exact sentences, despite our simultaneous intensity.

"Go ahead.  You first."  He said, inclining his head.

I took a deep breath and looked into his troubled eyes. 

"I love you."

"I love you, too."

"Is it enough?"

"Enough for what?"

"For you."

"What about for you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do you want more?  Need more?"

"Baby ... I need you."

"You've got me, my angel.  But is it enough for you?  I mean ... everyone we know is getting down to the nitty gritty of life and we're still having a party."

"And this is wrong - how?"

I couldn't help but giggle at his question.  "There's nothing wrong with it, sweetheart."

He ran his fingertip from the tip of my nose to my forehead.  "Then why is your beautiful brow all furrowed?  Are you unhappy?  Should I be doing something I'm not aware of?" 

"God, Zack ...no.  I'm happier than I've ever been."

"Then, tell me, darlin'... what's the problem?"

I didn't know how to make it sound reasonable or even intelligent.  

"I don't know, baby.  I just see our friends making all these declarations of permanency and commitment and I'm thinking, shit, should we be doing something different?  Making some grand gesture?  Declaring something besides the fact that we always want to haul each other off to bed?  I mean ... are we ... should we be ... doing something ... else...? "

He suddenly cupped my face and pulled it to him and kissed me deeply, smoothly swirling his tongue around mine.  He continued this assault on my senses until they left me.  I grasped his shirt in my fists and pulled him more tightly into my chest, feasting on his soft lips until I was out of breath.  

"Anyone ever tell you that you think too much?" He murmured into my mouth.

"Yeah..." I smiled into his eyes.  "I think you've mentioned that a time or two."

He growled in agreement, "M-m-m --- Honey, what we have is fuckin' perfection - it's great, you're great.  I'm happy...let's not play with it, doubt it or fix it, ok?  Can you do that?"

I sucked on his lower lip awhile as I considered this.  "Zack ...  god ... yeah ... I can do that ...I just thought ...."

"Just stop thinking and let nature take its course.  If you're not happy with what we're doing, tell me.  I'll listen.  But stop looking for boogey men where there are none.  Now drink up because we have business to attend to."

"Business?"

"Yeah ... monkey business ..." He nipped the side of my neck and I oozed into him with a squeaky sigh.  

"You're a man of few words, Zack.  But I love each one of them."