Ode to NEF

It does change things. It should change things. 

I am dazzled by the thrill in her voice, the brilliance of her smile, the light in her eyes. It contrasts all too poignantly with the not-so-long-ago hopelessness in her words, the trembling of her mouth, the fighting back of tears as she was crushed from yet another disappointment, wondering: What was she doing wrong? 

As I wonder, What am I doing wrong? 

But now, the bliss radiating into a palpable aura, she has found someone that she feels completely comfortable with, someone she can express herself with without careful editing, someone who accepts her as is, as she him. 

Like when we first met. 

We would share our dating horror stories, venting and laughing and commiserating. Now, I cannot; she feels guilty for having locating the missing puzzle piece, and hurries to tell me that she is searching through the pile for me, she really is. 

But I don't want her sympathy, I want her empathy, the way it was before! Bare months previous we would howl our frustrations then hug in understanding, bracing each other with hope in God. We would wallow together with shaken faith, then, with tightly gripped hands, clamber up to conviction once more.

Things have changed. 

Yet I couldn't be happier. 

For she and he have granted me more inspiration than any platitudes could. 

During her courtship she softened, at peace with the universe again. She is so grateful, so very grateful, thanking Hashem for this fulfillment despite her previous wobbly trust, apologizing for her moments of melancholy.

No, we cannot share as we used to; that time is over. But I shall smile at her chuppah, knowing that as she has found her equilibrium, so can I.