Seven-Year Itch
Cynnamon Schreinert
I’ve been in a relationship since 2002 and it’s nearing the seven year mark. People from different areas of my life keep referring to the seven-year itch. “Oh at seven years the love fades.” “Don’t scratch that seven-year itch. It’ll be tempting but don’t scratch it.” “The seven year anniversary was when we got divorced.” “No one can escape it.”
Books, both fiction and non-fiction, have been written about the subject; heck, Marilyn Monroe immortalized it in a movie of the same name. With each battering remark I smile and nod, knowing my relationship is different. My significant other will not stray into the hands of some adulterous female. Nor will I welcome a strange male into my bed. Our seven-year bond is deep and lasting.
It wasn’t always this way. Maybe we got through all of those difficult times only to maintain an unending bond. Some of those difficult times included his introduction to my best companion – the first two days did not go well but then things seemed to settle right down. At first we were dating casually. He’d sleep in my bed when not in another woman’s bed. We’d cuddle for hours until one day it became apparent that we were meant for each other. His evenings spent in the arms of her were fewer and fewer. Whenever I arrived home he would come to greet me and I had learned how to greet him in the manner that he most enjoyed. I could give him what he wanted.
Each day I find myself falling more and more in love. In fact, I may be more in love today than I was in the beginning. He is always there for me as I am always there for him. Feeding him carefully thought-out meals, keeping his favorite snacks on hand, playing with an assortment of toys to keep his interest and refreshing the tissue paper in his basket. Basket? What man sleeps in a basket, you may ask?
The truth is that my longest relationship is, and has been, with my cat, Clementine. In fact, this has been my most meaningful and significant relationship. When our companion passed away several months ago we were the two that were there for each other to comfort and console our broken hearts. Through any breakup with an actual male, Clementine is the one to lick the salty tears from my face and give me a reassuring purr that everything will be okay. It is in our hardest moments in life that we share the tenderest of thoughts. We are there for each other in ways that no one else can be. The comfort we provide to one another cannot be matched. His fur is the softest thing I have ever touched and his purr is enough to calm the sourest of my moods.
There’s no seven-year itch for us……oh wait, what’s that Clementine? You have an itch, under your chin? Now there is an itch I can handle.
