Our Love Is Different

Our love is different. It is different than it was the day we met. We both felt it but couldn't label it. It was new. It was right. It was a strong bond that was more friendship than lust. Then it became lust. and it was amazing. And we knew. For a few months, maybe even a year, we knew but said nothing. Then, one night while lying in the Van, we pledged our love to one another. And it was different. It was still new. It was even more right. We became partners. In life, in love. Then we decided to have kids. To bring life into our partnership. Maybe in a year or 2. When his career was bigger. But she came, right away, into our union with no warning. Even living on a bus making no money we knew she was right on time. 1+1=3. And our love grew and changed. It was different. Now our love was weary. It was worried and stressed out. But it was still ours. and it was still right. The lust left. completely. Our love became friendly. We could talk about everything, but not touch each other. it was my fault. I felt ugly and fat and gross. My body had just given birth and I didn't know how to embrace that, so I felt untouchable. Our love endured. He started traveling. a lot. Our love changed. It was different. It was stretched thin and fragile. I almost broke it. But it stayed. And we mended it. and made it stronger. We were best friends. Ever trusting in one another's ability to return. Then we thought, maybe Baby #2. in a year or 2. But he came. adding his little soul to our unit. Embracing us as we welcomed him into our living room. He saw me give birth, all by myself. He saw my power and helped me embrace it. Our love changed. It became stronger. Our friendship and trust became so great it exploded back into new love and the lust returned. And so it is different. And then he had to go. He had to work to put bread and bacon sandwiches on the table. He had to go away to get the money we (sadly) need to live in this world. But after years of not wanting to be touched my body misses his and I wish it was he who shared this bed rather than the nursling beside me.
Our love is different. Every time I turn around, it changes. Our relationship will continue to grow and morph in way I can't imagine. The love we share is not bound by societal norms. It is not forced to conform to your idea of marriage. We will not let the government dictate how we will live together and raise our children. We will trust in each other to always be honest and genuine in our dealings with one another. even if it hurts. There will be twists and turns. There will be repairs, and mending. and explosions. The only thing that is certain is that I would never trade these years of love that we have shared for anything.

I love you.


Anonymous said...

And that my sweet niece is called a relationship that will last forever as it continues to mature...Bill and I started out best friends and I wasn't even supposed to be able to have kids..to long to go into...however many mountains we climbed and valleys we waded through we kept talking just like we did when we first met..and decided we wanted to grow old together...now 30 years later I look at my husband laying in a bed, sleeping, no longer blue, but hooked up to a machine to help him breathe and you know what...I don't want to be any where else. Except maybe at home instead of a hospital room...growing old together. Because when you have the love you described then you have a damn great not good but great chance of being together until death do you part. I'm not ashamed we lived together 3 years and he caught me at a "feeling ugly" moment and I walked by saying yes I'll marry you....little did I know he wanted me to sign that paper and take his name it meant a lot to him...it was just a piece of paper to me. But I made him happy that day. He was gone months at a time...but that only made the times together much more in-depth..sometimes talking rather than sex...sometimes sex and not a word said, well not one you wanna hear lol. Having a different love is often the loves that last that 30 + years. When no matter how bad it hurts you always manage to get back to that I want to grow old with you...I'm very happy with my man, proud and happy for you that you are still happy with yours. We've been so broke..we went to a bar and he laid 50 cents on a pool table and we left drunk and $20.00 in our pocket. Blew me away..but beside every sucessful man is a woman that understands and is willing to work with him and raise his children sometimes alone and yet sometimes you want to run him out of the house so you can clean it. Then it's this one rule...my husband refused me to clean or vaccum when he was home because he wanted that time with me. Ups and downs...communication is the true key. All things happen for a reason...even tho we may never understand or know why it just does. That's why your love is Different!! GREAT POST HON. Love you Aunt Julie

Anonymous said...

This was so brave and real and true. And thank you so much for sharing. I have a different love than most my friends with such battles and rages. But those are against unseen demons and ghosts from marrying a man that has killed, buried too many friends and see mankind at it's bleakest. War. Three little letters: a forever of battling to remain calm, sane and happy. People judge him and wonder why he's not over it and pity me: he. I want no pity. I married a warrior. Your married your perfect kind of different too. I feel sorry for those who cannot see past the norms at powerful loves. I love you. Caity.