I am very fortunate…
to have a mother who shows me affection. This wasn’t always so. We have both learned a lot about ourselves by learning to love each other. Her love is absolute. There is no doubt in my mind or heart that she loves me.
Love, love is quite different.
I have had small sips of romantic love throughout my dating life. Sips that tasted like three course meals. I was not in a place where I could return that love, having not yet learned to love myself. Consequently, the experiences became myths that I felt foolish to believe in.
In the beginning, my husband loved me sparingly. A famine I was used to. Still, I longed for the feasts of my past. As time went on, he became more attentive and affectionate, but only in private. I wanted the world to know. Other people witnessing any attention he gave me, I rationalized, would be proof that he loved me.
The only thing on my plate was doubt.
There Is Love
Now that I am on the outside of that first love, it is without effort that I can see the differences between his persona, who he describes himself to be, and who he is at the core. I have also faced all my selves trying to be as honest as possible about who I am.
With this knowledge I fear that we are nowhere near companionship, will never reach friendship, that maybe we have always been and will always be what we are to each other. That is, bound by familial constructs that were prepared for us centuries ago and that, in our union, are powerless to break.
There is love. I cannot deny that.
A love that bathes me in a pelt of warmth when we sit next to each other, shoulders touching. Or the way I want to inhale his scent when we kiss. Although, most times there is only a peck on the lips, a tentative offering that knows the history that must come with it.
Knowing me you would cite my hormones and my moodiness as the culprits, but you cannot know him the way that I do and still believe that.
Cause and effect; my only response.
Love Is Honest and Transparent
It is not the romantic love that I have always dreamed about. However, I could never have imagined the love that I now feel for myself. The self-respect, compassion, devotion, and something far beyond love, like. I like, me.
Perhaps, love has never been and will never be as they have said it should be, unconditional.
We all have conditions that determine if we should give of ourselves. Things like respect, loyalty, affection, and honesty. Setting that aside, is what we do have strong enough to sustain this marriage? I have wasted time lamenting over what it was not that I missed seeing what it really was.
Two people navigating histories, prophecies, and ancient riddles, to find each other.
Love is not blind. Infatuation, fixations, obsession, are blind. Love is honest and transparent.
It’s not how I think love should feel. It’s what it is, in the context of this relationship, and is that good enough for me? I guess the answer is yes. There are parts of our relationship that I do not want to live without. All the other stuff I can deal with; the scales are balanced in that way.
I believe that the love I have for myself allows me to love him, the real him, just a little bit more.
“Remember that what you have now was once among the things you only hoped for.”
Epicurus (c.341-270BC), Greece
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