Love is...
Dear TCB*,
First, welcome to my blog. I don't remember if I've ever given you the address but I have now. Yes, this is the place I've sort of told you about, the place where all of my friends that you'll probably never meet because I probably won't, either, hang out. It was my safety net before I had you.
I didn't know what to get you for our anniversary. Face it, we have virtually everything in the entire world. (Probably two of them, if you're getting technical.) Once you come home, you'll join me in our snug little townhouse with very little closet space and we've already discussed the fact that a garage is for parking cars and storing power tools and Christmas stuff, not 20 years of junk we're too lazy to sort through, so more stuff is not something either of us needs. And then that silly "Your Song" by Elton John came on the radio and I realized what my anniversary gift to you would be - I don't sing, but I do write, and this blog entry is for you.
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Sometimes it's such a shock to realize that it's been a year since we stood under that arbor at the County Courthouse, held hands, and recited our vows. When I promised to love you through better and worse, richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, I wasn't really thinking that we'd go through all of those in a single year.
And there have been so many challenging times when it would have been easy for either or both of us to throw our hands up and walk away. That we haven't is a testament to the part of Love that no one sings about: patience. It's not sexy like romance, it's just that thing that keeps two people together when they only have words on a page to communicate by, when their entire world seems to be falling in, and when the desperate need to see your loved one's face leaves you feeling empty and hopeless. You are so patient with me. You don't freak out when I'm in panic mode, crying hysterically because the sky is falling and I'm talking in a voice that only dogs can hear. You calm me down, dry my tears (either over the phone or - more commonly - via email), and make me believe that everything will be OK again. My most magical realization of these past 12 months has been that no meltdown of mine is greater than your love for me.
That knowledge has helped me grow up more than the prior 39 years of experience ever did. I am more truthful with you than I have ever been with anyone before. You hold a lantern up to the dark, horrible places inside me...places too awful for anyone before you to see...and you don't flinch. I tell you things I wouldn't tell my best friend because I know that you won't judge, you'll just help me figure the way out. You have no idea how amazing it is to know that I don't have to carry everything by myself anymore - thank you for that blessing.
What do you get in return? I'm weak and silly and vapid and a compulsive shopaholic and I take forever to send your care packages and I spend 30 minutes on the phone with you waffling on about some stupid Junior League thing and I don't send you emails every day the way I intend to and I have social anxiety about meeting new people or even interacting with others that we already know. And I have more handbags and shoes than Imelda Marcos.
I have no idea why you would choose to stay with such a neurotic mess. I do, however, know that I'll stand by you for the rest of my life, supporting and loving you with the very last breath I take, and that God answered each and every one of my prayers when He brought you into my life. You and I, and our cats, and our families and friends...that's just everything in the world to me. Everything.
I guess there's nothing else to say except to tell you that I love you. I'm pretty sure you're under way and that I won't hear your voice again for a while, so it was really special that you found time to call me on our anniversary - twice! You'll never know what that meant to me. Be well, Sweetheart. Fair skies and calm seas and hurry home when you can.
Love Always,
Your Wife
* Your nickname "TCB" was something I came up with after our first date. It stands for The Cute Boy and I've continued to use it even after our wedding because my friends here asked me to and because it still makes me smile. I hope you don't mind.
First, welcome to my blog. I don't remember if I've ever given you the address but I have now. Yes, this is the place I've sort of told you about, the place where all of my friends that you'll probably never meet because I probably won't, either, hang out. It was my safety net before I had you.
I didn't know what to get you for our anniversary. Face it, we have virtually everything in the entire world. (Probably two of them, if you're getting technical.) Once you come home, you'll join me in our snug little townhouse with very little closet space and we've already discussed the fact that a garage is for parking cars and storing power tools and Christmas stuff, not 20 years of junk we're too lazy to sort through, so more stuff is not something either of us needs. And then that silly "Your Song" by Elton John came on the radio and I realized what my anniversary gift to you would be - I don't sing, but I do write, and this blog entry is for you.
--------------------------------------
Sometimes it's such a shock to realize that it's been a year since we stood under that arbor at the County Courthouse, held hands, and recited our vows. When I promised to love you through better and worse, richer and poorer, in sickness and in health, I wasn't really thinking that we'd go through all of those in a single year.
And there have been so many challenging times when it would have been easy for either or both of us to throw our hands up and walk away. That we haven't is a testament to the part of Love that no one sings about: patience. It's not sexy like romance, it's just that thing that keeps two people together when they only have words on a page to communicate by, when their entire world seems to be falling in, and when the desperate need to see your loved one's face leaves you feeling empty and hopeless. You are so patient with me. You don't freak out when I'm in panic mode, crying hysterically because the sky is falling and I'm talking in a voice that only dogs can hear. You calm me down, dry my tears (either over the phone or - more commonly - via email), and make me believe that everything will be OK again. My most magical realization of these past 12 months has been that no meltdown of mine is greater than your love for me.
That knowledge has helped me grow up more than the prior 39 years of experience ever did. I am more truthful with you than I have ever been with anyone before. You hold a lantern up to the dark, horrible places inside me...places too awful for anyone before you to see...and you don't flinch. I tell you things I wouldn't tell my best friend because I know that you won't judge, you'll just help me figure the way out. You have no idea how amazing it is to know that I don't have to carry everything by myself anymore - thank you for that blessing.
What do you get in return? I'm weak and silly and vapid and a compulsive shopaholic and I take forever to send your care packages and I spend 30 minutes on the phone with you waffling on about some stupid Junior League thing and I don't send you emails every day the way I intend to and I have social anxiety about meeting new people or even interacting with others that we already know. And I have more handbags and shoes than Imelda Marcos.
I have no idea why you would choose to stay with such a neurotic mess. I do, however, know that I'll stand by you for the rest of my life, supporting and loving you with the very last breath I take, and that God answered each and every one of my prayers when He brought you into my life. You and I, and our cats, and our families and friends...that's just everything in the world to me. Everything.
I guess there's nothing else to say except to tell you that I love you. I'm pretty sure you're under way and that I won't hear your voice again for a while, so it was really special that you found time to call me on our anniversary - twice! You'll never know what that meant to me. Be well, Sweetheart. Fair skies and calm seas and hurry home when you can.
Love Always,
Your Wife
* Your nickname "TCB" was something I came up with after our first date. It stands for The Cute Boy and I've continued to use it even after our wedding because my friends here asked me to and because it still makes me smile. I hope you don't mind.
Comments
Congrats, and welcome to the fold (and the blog), TCB.
I can't believe it's a year already. Congratulations to two very special people and many wishes for happiness.
I can't believe it's been a year since you married. Congratulations!
I finally have your RSS feed (I think that's why I lost track of you before), and I'm looking forward to reading more updates :)
Happy Anniversary!
Happy Anniversary, Denise and TCB!