The Danger of Comfort

by MEREDITH CHAMBERLAIN

It was one of those days. one of those days after one of those nights. I was groggy, full of excess, the sun was setting when it should have been rising and I felt lucky, when Garden State came on TV, because Zach Braff was all I could handle.

Booze kind of lifts a layer of thought, judgment the day after I drink it so I feel my face scrunch up, eyes start to water during that scene in the bathtub, when Zach tells Natalie that he feels safe, when she's there. When I'm with you I feel so safe, he says.

photos by francesca woodmanFor the past several months I've been thinking about comfort. I've been deciding, telling myself, that I don't want it in my life, in any part of my life but especially the part of life that involves love. Love is not long sleeved nightgowns and "I didn't take a shower today" and thai food followed by Häagen-Dazs on the couch, in your bed, every night. Love is not let's just stay in, because I'm tired, I don't feel like getting dressed, and I don't like those people, anyway.

It's late, we're drunk, still drinking, the two of us, but I don't know why. You put on music and I walk upstairs, go to bed, hope you don't bother me, when you do the same. It's Friday night, my brother's birthday, we're out for dinner, soon to be out for drinks and you give me that face. That I guess I'll go out for a drink face. go home, I think, get out of here. We're home, at my home, with my parents. You're sitting on the couch, watching sports, all day. My family doesn't watch sports, all day. You're sitting on the couch alone. I tell you i want to go to the beach, you tell me not yet. I look at you, look around the room, think, where did you come from?

My mother, I have never seen her get comfortable, give up, gain weight, get depressed, go to therapy, pop pills, pretend this never happened. She has been married for 33 years and I like to think this has something to do with it.

I've been thinking about comfort for the past several months and about safety for the past several days. There is a difference, I think, there has to be a difference between feeling comfortable and feeling safe, in love.

I'm standing with you at a party, meeting someone new, they might judge me but you won't, we're past that, and I feel safe. I leave work, my boss hates me and I leave work, most days, on the verge of, in tears and I come over, I'm with you, and I feel safe.

My roommate brings home another one, another one from another bar, they don't even know what they're doing, who they are, I hear their ignorance, but you hear it too, and I feel safe. I'm lying in bed, it's raining, loud out there, and I'm curled up like a ball, next to you, and I feel safe. I'm 24 but I might as well be 5 and I feel safe.

You fall in love, and you get this cloak. To shield, protect you, to keep you safe. It's your sunscreen, your seat belt, your semi automatic. This cloak you get, it's not a snuggie. And this love you fell into, it's not a cracker barrel.

Meredith Chamberlain is a contributor to This Recording. She is a writer living in New York. This is her first appearance in these pages. She tumbls here.

"Velvet" — The Big Pink (mp3)

"Frisk" — The Big Pink (mp3)

"Golden Pendulum" — The Big Pink (mp3)