For as long as I can recall, I’ve been a rememberer. I don’t know if that’s an actual ‘word’, but it is now.
I have this tendency to look back and remember certain times in my life. Firsts are always a given: first job, first day of college, first steps taken by my son. I always tend to remember firsts of a different sort, too.
Many times I turn to James and say, “Just think: a year ago…..” These words can be followed by, “we were signing our lease”, or “we joined friends for Thanksgiving”, or “we got our first Christmas tree together.” I seem to have this knack for remembering the simplest of things, including the biggest milestones.
Amazing what a difference a year makes. 365 days. Life has changed so much and so little.
New home, new job (times two different locations), new hobby (motorcycles), new friends and family. Such a fun year it has been. I’m grateful and happy, and somehow even more in love with this man than I was
a year ago.
I promised myself I wasn’t going to let this post turn into a syrupy, sappy diatribe on the reasons I love James, but there are times I need the outlet to purge so as to make room for even more love in my heart.
If that’s even possible.
This one true love has changed my entire outlook on life, living, and everything that goes along with it. I wake in the morning and wonder how I can possibly love him any more than I already do, yet somehow I feel it. I lay awake at night, stare at the ceiling, thoughts crowding my brain, but one constant is the person that lies next to me never fails to make me smile, even in the dark, as I listen to his steady breathing, reach over and stroke his soft skin. His nearness makes me happy. Truly happy. As if it’s not enough that we know how happy we are together, those that know us mention it, too. They see it written all over our faces. Yeah, it’s sorta hard to contain.
I’ll admit in most of my other adult relationships with men, I’ve always preferred a good dose of ‘alone time’. I liked my solitude. I needed to remain fiercely independent. And quite honestly, I just didn’t want to be with anyone ALL the time.
That’s all changed now.
Yeah, I’m one of THOSE women now. We are one of THOSE couples. We love being together. We truly love it. It’s not that we can’t spend time with others, exclusive of each other, and we have, but we just LOVE to be together. We laugh, we joke, we tease, we sit quietly in comfortable silence, we finish each other’s sentences. We enjoy the presence of the other.
The mere presence of one another.
He is my inspiration. He is my joker. He is my partner in silly crime. He is my equal. He IS my heart.
A year ago, we were just finding our way together after making the leap off our collective cliff. We were still finding our way to each other. A year ago, our relationship was in its infancy. Our relationship was still navigating the route that only with time would become familiar and comfortable. Today we stand together, looking back, and looking forward. Our journey has been marked with many wonderful milestones that may have been ordinary, but by experiencing them together, they become extraordinary. A year ago, I was driving 70+ miles one way to work night shift. A year ago we were attempting to patch relationships with others that needed it. A year ago, we were making plans for 2012, proclaiming it ‘our year’. A year ago, I remember thinking that a year is a long time when looking forward. Funny how that isn’t the case when you look at it in reverse.
In the past year, I have let go of many things that now seem insignificant and nonessential. Love like this makes things simpler, but makes our love more complex at the same time.
I hope at least one reader of this blog, reads this post and relates with even a portion of what is contained inside this post. I want others to know a love like this. It’s that good. It’s the only kind I can imagine knowing, and the only kind I can imagine having.
I hope I can write an entry a year from now, looking back fondly on all that has happened. Somehow, I think that’s precisely what is going to happen.
And yeah, this post DID turn into a syrupy, sappy diatribe on love.