The lovers, the dreamers, and me.

I didn’t cry when my parents divorced. Truth be told, I didn’t cry when I filed for divorce from my ex, save for the tears of joy that flew from my eyes when the judge pronounced my freedom. But today, upon reading the news of Kermit and Miss Piggy’s split, I sat down and I bawled my eyes out.

Before you laugh at me, allow me to explain the parallels of their journey in love to my own.

Kermit was a good frog. He was a little different, but hey, it ain’t easy being green. He was a hard-working, reliable guy who’d do anything for his friends. He was a poet, a musician, a sweet and loving gentleman who looked beyond the chaos of his lady and loved her despite her very obvious, um, we’ll call them “difficulties.” (The girl’s a drama queen, but we love her anyway.) He took her in stride and thought of those difficult qualities as valuable elements of her personality. I would go so far as to say he admired her for them. She had wit, beauty, sass and everything a true lady could ever ask for in terms of self-confidence. She was a leader and a role model for girls everywhere, especially the shy girls like me with a little extra chub in their cheeks.

I have been a Miss Piggy fan since I was sporting her face on my t-shirts as a tot. I’ve grown up with that shrill voice in the back of my head telling me, “You go, girl!” What I know about devotion, I learned from her love for a tall, lanky green frog – her complete opposite. When I met my Fair Ginger Lover, the Frog to my Toad, the Gulliver to my Midge, the Schroeder to my Lucy, I knew he was something special. To me, he is everything I could ever find should I go looking for the Rainbow Connection. He is my partner for life, the one who keeps me grounded, the one who talks me down and lifts me up. He is constantly looking past my shrillness, my diva tendencies, my drama, and whenever I’m down, he’s ready to serenade me and bring the smile back to my face. “Oh, Kermie.”

There are some who could argue, as FGL did when I broke this awful news to him that Kermit could do better. She was somewhat abusive in her language, and perhaps her confidence sometimes crossed borders into arrogance, but as her new Tinder profile says, quoting our mutual adoration for Miss Marilyn Monroe, “If you can’t handle me at my worst, you don’t deserve me at my best.” No other woman comes to mind when I think of the devotion and admiration that Miss Piggy held for Kermit the Frog. That lady put up almost as much a fight as I did when chasing the man of our dreams.

What this split tells me is, love can die. All good things must come to an end. Nothing lasts forever. Insert your cliché here.

But I am such a firm believer in true love, and no love was truer, at least for me, than theirs. Except my own. Which now has an aura of uncertainty. Everything I thought I knew about love and devotion has now been wiped away with their statements of the breakup. No, they never had children of their own. But they had millions of children counting on them to make it.

We are a broken family today. You can laugh at me, but it will haunt the far corridors of your heart, too. A piece of our childhood has been ripped from us all. What does it mean? Does it mean that the conservatives have won? That a frog and a pig were too unnatural to be together in the eyes of someone else’s God? Does it mean feelings that ran so deep for so long can dry up like a California riverbed? Could it mean that the beliefs we hold near and dear could actually turn out to be false someday?

All I’m saying is, if you’ve found your Kermie or your Piggy, love them with everything you have. Fight the odds. Show the world that a forever kind of love still exists.


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