life marriage

I love love.

My kids fell asleep at 7:15 pm the other night. Both of them. That never happens.
The silence was almost frightening when I came downstairs. I didn’t know what to do with myself. It was too early to go to bed so I turned on the TV but gravitated towards my computer to get some work done. But oh I needed to order some Christmas presents, and then someone had their baby and I had to look at pictures, and wait what’s going on in the garage sale page? And yea, moral of the story, I got distracted.
Blame the Redds Strawberry Ales I consumed or the fact that I got lost in my Pandora station (Colbie Caillat), but I felt a sense of peace. Something I haven’t felt since Zach and I kissed goodbye 60 days ago (who’s counting, right?). But if we’re being honest, I haven’t felt peace since the day he told me he was leaving. I hadn’t expected our world to be rocked like that. I selfishly didn’t want him to go but even more so, I didn’t want him to have to go. I was scared shitless and felt terrible he would miss out on so much.
Zach is amazing. I wish I could find the words to describe the type of person he is and how lucky I am to be married to him. Is he perfect? No. Am I perfect? That would be a hell no. But he loves me for me and I love him for the man he is. To me, he’s perfect. We’re perfect for each other and that’s all that matters.
I found myself thinking about love the other day. I thought about the times I thought I was in love or convinced myself that whatever relationship I was in, was the best I could do. That I deserved to be treated or talked to the way I had been because well, we were young. We were in college. We were in situations where drinking was prevalent. Or I was in high school where love was new. Every excuse in the book, I used it. I thought that love meant saying it and changing my relationship status on Facebook. I thought that love was being showered with gifts or spending every waking minute together. I thought that love meant giving up time with friends or hobbies and losing myself completely in the other person.
Boy was I wrong. Love means being you. Being 110% yourself and embracing your flaws. It means fighting for what and who you love. It means thanking them for being them. Ignoring the fact that they’re OCD about loading the dishwasher and snore when they’re sleeping on their back. Or that they want to touch you and dance in the kitchen while you’re trying to cook dinner. It means supporting them in whatever makes them happy. It means admitting when you’re wrong and apologizing when you need to.
Love consumes you. It changes you, but doesn’t alter the person you are to the point of losing your identity. It enhances who you already are as an individual and makes you a better person. It’s two people, two personalities, who become one entity yet keep their individuality so that they can keep growing and learning separately and in turn, bring more to the relationship.
Love matures you. You forget the petty shit you fought about with people who you thought you loved and forgive those who hurt you in the past. Because at that point, no one else matters but the one you love. Everything that’s happened up until this point was to make you appreciative of your one and only. To teach you to appreciate the good and forget the bad.
I can’t explain the love I feel for my husband but I feel it. I felt it the minute I saw him and the first time we talked on the boat that day. I had never understood “love at first sight” or “when you know you know” but it was nothing short of that. It was nothing short of butterflies and losing my breath when he asked me to be his girlfriend and then again when he asked me to spend the rest of my life with him.
Our life is no fairytale. We’ve had hardships and we’ve been through hell and back but at the end of the day, it’s only made us stronger. It’s made us resilient to whatever we may face in the future because we’ve strengthened our love and our marriage through adversity.
Do I like this time apart? No. But I love my husband and I would do it over and over again if it meant spending the rest of my life being lucky enough to love this man. Love is a powerful thing and sometimes, it’s the only thing that keeps me afloat on the tough days. But as the saying goes, “how lucky I am to have something that makes saying goodbye so hard”…
Lucky, indeed.





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