“What shall I blog about?” I asked T. last night, as we were about to fall asleep.
“Write about love.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say I’m the leading expert in love.”
He laughed then, so long and deep that I had to smack him hard in the chops until he finally shut up. Actually, he didn’t laugh, just snorted quietly and gently, and I didn’t hit him, but instead cuddled up and sent lots of mixed messages as I tried to simultaneously think of my blog while enjoying his warmth next to me.
When I was young(er), I fell in love often. It hurt sometimes. But what mostly hurt and confused me was the fact that it never lasted. I was easily infatuated and passionate about someone new. But then after a short while, the other person would gradually show who they really are. Good riddance, real person!
I have no idea where the idea of ‘happily ever after’ was invented. I am not sure I had such great examples in my close vicinity. And yet, as a diehard romantic, I refused to discard that high ideal. Anything less was not worth my time of day. But I also couldn’t stay alone.
This vacation, T. and I spent 3 weeks together, without the kids (who I do love dearly and deeply so that is NOT an issue). And we had only two small (miniature actually) arguments. And I had one enormous swelling of love and gratitude on a walk through the romantic town of Honfleur and many other brief moments of “this is good, this is right.” I wasn’t blue, except for the day it was cold and overcast. I wasn’t bored. I didn’t feel angry or overly reflective nor did I have to wonder what he was thinking about. I got to read my books, I got to paint. I let him do the driving. I addressed the ‘who is going to cook’ issue before it got to me. He read the draft of my book and we had a really good talk about it.
“So, what about the blog?” I asked again this morning.
“Something about ‘finding the balance?’ he suggests.
“I’m really bad at this thing called love,” I remind him, and his reply is strangely pleasing to me.
“But because you are able to distance yourself, you don’t get overly involved and that’s why are able to deal with it sometimes better than I can.”
And then I know I am accepted with my imperfections as I am.
And he is too.And that works.