layers

My father has never been one to advise me on my love life. He's never lectured me on the dangers of dating, the doggishness of men or the cruelty of love. Ironically, he uses the most words when he declares to me that he isn't much of a talker.

The conversation came unannounced. After our weekly dinner, we usually find ourselves in a random coffee shop that he declares he never frequents (we're much alike in this manner of "declaring" things). From a man who has never asked me about boyfriends or broached the topic of marriage, the word "onion" escapes his lips. I looked at him questioningly and a bit startled.

"A woman should be like an onion. You ever try to peel an onion? It's got layers. You can't ever get to the core. You can peel it until it's this small, but you can peel it still. It's got layers."

Understandably, scenes from Shrek flashed through my mind. That great green ogre and the stupid, yakking donkey.

"Okay dad. Don't worry."

"An onion," he says.

I think about this that night as I lay in bed. The differences between men and women. The supposed simplicity of men and the alleged complexity of women. The divergence that can amount to great love but also great despair. Funny how loving someone can seem like the easiest thing in the world, when actually it is perhaps the most difficult and arduous journey we can take in life. Since, after all, all good things revolve around love, it's not quite so simple, is it?