Thus do we demonstrate our hard-won maturity, our mastery of our lives and our desires. No longer battered by the storm winds of uncertainty nor lured by the siren song of adolescent fantasy, we proudly sail these well-charted waters and wonder why all we ever find is the same old sea monsters.
Let's go to a movie. Something with space ships or super heroes, or one that takes place in a world populated entirely by British soap opera stars. Afterward we'll have an organic milkshake or gluten-free beer and laugh as we rip the movie to shreds. You'll explain the in-joke from your college friends that made the love scene unintentionally hilarious and I'll tell you about this guy I knew in the army who actually talked exactly like that. You'll ask about my band and I'll ask about yours and the only thing I'll be desperately trying not to do it stare down your shirt and you'll be wondering why the hell I haven't been staring down your shirt and then it'll be three hours later and we're making out in the parking lot like teenagers because neither of us can stop giggling long enough to operate a car.
Or maybe not. Maybe we'll argue about social justice issues or find we support incompatible factions in Game of Thrones (I favor the not-dead ones). Maybe we'll find each other to be frighteningly insane, giving us each one more story to share on the next date.
They say love is blind, not because it ignores appearances but because it has no idea where it's going. Sail with me a ways and challenge the edges of the map. We'll explore strange waters, where dragons lie and wondrous worlds await. We will fear no storm, but trust in the the lines we share, the knots we tie, and the watchful eyes we keep ever on the horizon.
Why else would we have spent all this time learning how to sail?