Archives for posts with tag: happy anniversary

It’s our anniversary today. 12 years. Lovely day for it. Not a sunny day, but the weather isn’t bad. The stormy looking clouds scooting past overhead create some beautiful views. No rain so far.

My Traveling Partner was still sleeping when I left the house early-ish this morning. I got a pleasant walk in, and ran a couple errands. I headed home when I got his ping letting me know he was awake. Efficient. One of those errands was picking up a new “spa frog” for the hot tub, and by lunch time, my partner had the chemistry adjusted and ready for soaking. Damn that felt soooo good, too. My aching back was enormously grateful.

Gratitude is definitely something filling my heart today. Gratitude and love. This relationship is pretty mind-blowing and characterized by love, loving, and mutual regard. I adore this particular human being rather a lot. Perhaps, I sometimes think, too much…? Love is the good stuff, though, isn’t it? 🙂 Hard to argue that it isn’t. I smile and think of his arms around me. Our experience of love isn’t “perfect”; we’re both human beings, and we’ve both reached where we are in life by wading through rather a lot of pointless crap, bad decision-making, and individual trauma, so… yeah… we’ve each got our baggage and our “issues”. Still… I never lose sight of how very much this human being loves me, and what a delightful return-on-investment (because I love him) this love is. We’re happy – for most values of “happy”.

…12 years…

Today we’re also, in addition to celebrating our anniversary, waiting on packages. This is a less successful or satisfying endeavor than simply loving each other, unfortunately (seems like it should require quite a lot less work all around). Packages that should have been delivered, based on expectation-setting by shippers, Friday. Weather? Nope. It’s a pretty mild spring most places. Civil disorder? Not on that level (yet) in this country (generally). With regard to at least one package, it actually looks like just maybe it’s in the process of being stolen. This is seriously aggravating. The tracking tools available these days certainly make easier to spot sketchy weird bullshit, though.

My partner finally gets a support call through to an actual human being, who agrees the particulars look exceedingly questionable. They start doing whatever is to be done to track down it’s location in the physical world. What a bunch of bullshit. Of course, the stress of dealing with it harshes the mellow of a lovely day. I step away (here, now) long enough to get enough distance from the blast of frustration and ire to (hopefully) avoid being triggered by it. So far, so good.

I think about this love of ours, and the future camping fun we’re already planning to enjoy together. That’s part of today’s frustration; the items we’re waiting on are a handful of basic essentials that we need for safe (enjoyable) off-roading, and efficient management/storage of our gear. I know my Traveling Partner is eager to take the truck out and get it off-road for a few days, looking for some great camping spots to enjoy together on my birthday (and beyond). I understand the maddening frustration of packages that don’t come when promised, or arrive damaged, or… just don’t arrive. (Just gonna say it; Amazon’s services have less and less actual value as time passes, and I no longer use them as my “go to” when I am shopping online. Between the shipping disappointments – which are numerous – and the knock-offs or scam products mixed in with legit listings, it’s just not worth the hassles, or the price.)

I smile, thinking of my partner. Thinking of spending time together in the truck, on the road, out in the woods, out on a trail… fuck I love this guy. It’s the kind of love that makes it so worthwhile to do my best to be the woman I most want to be.

Not quite a love letter. More like “a moment”. Thoughts about love over coffee.

Back in 2010, this human being (who became, over time, my Traveling Partner) and I began hanging out. Colleagues. Friends. Commute buddies. We became lovers. We became partners. Family. He moved in. We moved on – together. We married in 2011, for mostly fairly practical reasons. Other lovers came and went. Other relationships developed, and failed. We continued (and continue even now) to travel life’s journey together.

Today is our anniversary. I’ve got a lingering headache that has been with me a day or two, and although I took the day off I am awake quite early. He was up later into the evening than I was. He sleeps in. It’s a quiet, lovely spring day, during the time of pandemic. It’s also our anniversary, and I am smiling. 🙂

…I may not write more this weekend. I am more inclined to spend some time just existing, and pausing the routines for harmonious love, and a persistent feeling of joy – and gratitude. This is a pretty special love. If love ever faded, I doubt I’d walk on; this human being is also my best and closest friend. It’s hard to imagine a life that does not include the both of us, generally together.

We have sometimes lived apart, by choice, sometimes by circumstance, and we live together, now. Our choices for habitation have not marred our affection for each other. Actually, they’ve had nothing to do with love, or loving each other.  Love thrives when we thrive. It’s not about who lives where. We’re very human, each struggling with our own baggage. Each having our own experience. Each with our own taste, our own hobbies, our own hard moments, our own private joys. We have individual competencies and individual short-comings. We share the journey by choice. It isn’t always “easy”. I haven’t noticed either of us complaining about the effort that is sometimes involved in lasting love and a healthy partnership; it’s very worth it. (For me, for sure. Hopefully for him, as well.)

I pause and reflect on Love. “Love doesn’t pay the bills.” This is true. I’ve lived without love. Often. Hell, I’ve been in relationships in which “I love you’s” were frequent, but fairly meaningless, or filled with subtext and conditions – looking back, I recognize that those were not honest authentic love, as I understand it now. I’m okay with it; those experiences helped me become someone who is willing to work for what love offers. I learned a lot. I’m a better lover, a better partner, a better friend, having grown considerably through problematic relationships. Long honest looks in the mirror taught me much about the role I play in a partnership, as a human being, and the nature of reciprocity, openness, authenticity, and consideration, and how very necessary they each are to sustaining lasting love.

I’m a better woman – and human being – than I was when my Traveling Partner and I met. I feel less “broken”, and more capable. I am far more willing to “do my share” – and I recognize that an equal partnership does require that everyone involved do the work to create, maintain, and deepen that partnership. I sip my coffee contentedly. Are we perfect? lol Of course not. Is love perfect? Is life perfect? Ever? Hell, is perfect “perfect”? (Hint: there is no “perfection” to reach in life or love. There are processes, practices, experiences, and perspectives – we can choose contentment, and enjoy the journey, or… not. There is no “perfect” out there to achieve. The journey together is the destination, and the goal.)

Yeah. I’m smiling. I’m okay with “us”. I’m okay with this moment, together. I sit quietly awhile longer, before the day really begins. It’s enough. 🙂

Disinhibited Love

I think of you,
and in the thinking my heart calls your name
and if you are near, I reach for you;
when you are far away the longing is greater,
and becomes words.
Love letters once penned in ink
on lined paper
in spiral notebooks or
binders
are faster now
easier now
more immediate now
and my heart pours directly onto the digital page
unfiltered
unreserved
unaged
uncensored
until a simple ‘I love you’ becomes somehow fantastical
and exotic
and
just perhaps
too much.
It’s just that I was thinking of you…
and my heart called your name,
and in your absence
my love comes tumbling out in words;
I have just enough on hand to say
I love you.

"Baby Love" Scrivener 1992

“Baby Love” Scrivener 1992

"Cherry Blossoms" 2011

“Cherry Blossoms” 2011

Love.

I don’t know what exactly to say right now. I’m happy to know love. (I’m incredibly fortunate to enjoy the love of multiple partners.)  There have been times in the past, other lives, other ‘loves’, when I thought I understood…thought I was, in the moment, experiencing love…or Love…or … maybe not.  Usually not. I was cynical about love in my twenties; it had no reality for me, and I was damaged and numb. In my 30s, I was disappointed, disillusioned, and angry about love, or rather the lack of it.   I found love the first time in my 30s, actually, and the love I found was pure Greek tragedy, with no possible future to it in the world I lived in…in didn’t help matters that I was so consumed by personal shame, regret, and long-time self-loathing that I couldn’t possibly have understood or enjoyed love, or treated someone else’s heart well, at that point in my life.  I tried solitude, and found that libido would overrule my best efforts at good decision making for myself again and again – because I knew nothing about taking care of myself, or my own heart; I knew only that experiencing a physical need could be gratified by a physical action. Very mammalian. Very primate. Pretty far removed from love.

Those earlier attempts to love, and accept love in return, hurt everyone involved at some point, on some level, and I doubt I’ve yet learned not to hurt people with my novice efforts at love.  Still…there came a day when love found me, reached me through my walls and mirrors, touched me and demanded my attention in spite of my pain and my baggage and my cynical jokes about love – and I was blown away.  I still am.  There’s no forcing it, either, love is what it is, and there’s an ebb and flow to those powerful emotions of connection, romance, passionate affection, and heart…and I am very much aware of how little I know, yet, about love.

Why am I writing about love? Because love demands my attention today, and I am celebrating an anniversary of love – two years ago today, one of my partners and I chose to underscore our romantic attraction, our affection, our enjoyment of each other, our shared life together…by signing a contract. lol.  🙂  No regrets here, either.  I could say something syrupy about ‘couldn’t be happier’ or go overboard with the hyperbole…but life is very real, and loving someone with my issues – or his – has its complicated moments.  Damn though… I love him with my whole heart and no reservations. I don’t know what more I could say about that – I am motivated to grow and become and thrive, largely on the basis of knowing love. Any love. Real love. It’s…indescribable at heart.  I paint instead.  “Cherry Blossoms” was painted to celebrate love.   So was this…

"Communion" 2010

“Communion” 2010

I’ve painted about 2 dozen canvases inspired by love – this love, this man, this time in my life.  I don’t know where life will take me, or us, or the world.  Love isn’t always easy…but so far, it is always worth living the experience of loving and being loved in return.  I don’t expect perfect 24/7 bliss from love…I hope I enjoy it for a long while to come…I am enjoying it in my now. Happy Anniversary, Love. ❤

"X-Rated" kissed by rain drops.  Love, too, sometimes feels the weight of tears on tenderness.

“X-Rated” kissed by rain drops. Love, too, sometimes feels the weight of tears on tenderness.

…And yes, practicing mindfulness seems to have value for love, too.  🙂  I am learning that many of the everyday moments of distress or misunderstanding, the sorrow or anxiety in the sleepless wee hours of a lonely night, the hormonal fury that sometimes still takes me over, all benefit from mindful moments and taking good care of my own heart…because when I do not find love for myself, within my own heart, I lose my way and struggle feel the love offered by others.

Time to listen to love songs…it’s so hard not to post links to each and every one on my lover’s Facebook wall. lmao