Archives for posts with tag: love letter

The world is often a crazy, chaotic, terrifying place, it seems. Sometimes the sorrows and frustrations outnumber the fleeting moments of happiness… maybe… mostly? It can sure seem that way. This journey called life is strange and sometimes strained by the challenges of our circumstances, or just the very human nature of our very human selves. It isn’t often an “easy” experience, at all. This morning, though? I am sipping my coffee, smiling, and thinking about love. Not “I love my coffee” love. Not “I love my job” love. Not even “I love my family and my friends” love. I am thinking about that heartfelt, gut-churning, butterflies-in-my-stomach launching, sweating, mind-altering, mood-enhancing, exciting, exotic, mundane, routine, spectacular romantic love that (if we’re fortunate) we may have the opportunity to enjoy at some point in our adult lifetime. If we’re particularly self-aware, and very skilled with our judgement of character, we may even recognize it while it is happening. 😀 A rare few may enjoy it more than once in their lifetime.

“Life Sparkles (with the love we feel)” 11″ x 14″ acrylic on canvas w/glow and glitter 2018

…I’m sipping my coffee thinking about love. The love I share with my Traveling Partner (on life’s journey). This is an amazing relationship. No, we’re not perfect people. We fuss at each other now and then. Having met each other later in our adult lives, we sometimes forget that the other has lived an entire life before the point at which we met, bringing skills, memories, and anecdotes of times we did not share to this relationship. I feel fortunate that we were friends before we were lovers. Lovers (and flat mates) before we married. This is a relationship built on a firm foundation, based on shared values and shared goals, but also on affectionate respect and consideration for each other’s individual qualities that make us so different. Why go on about it? Because it’s out there. There is love aplenty in the world. There are verbs involved… No doubt results will vary.

“Communion” 24″ x 36″ acrylic on canvas w/ceramic details 2010

I’m counting down the days, now. 4 days, as it happens. In 4 days we celebrate our 12 anniversary married. 4382 days married. Worth celebrating. 12 years of fairly steady forward momentum on this journey together. My Traveling Partner is truly a partner worthy of spending a lifetime with; he lifts me up, he challenges my expectations, he encourages (and demands) my best, he demonstrates his enduring love for me every day, he sparks a fire in my heart that burns bright. Sometimes he frustrates me. That doesn’t limit my affection for him. Sometimes he tests my patience. That doesn’t diminish my love. We’re very human. We love in a very human way – that just makes sense. 🙂

Be love. It’s a choice. Love is a verb.

It’s nice to sit and sip my coffee thinking about love. To sit and ask the question “is this where I want to be?” and “is this love good for me?” and know with effortless certainty that I am, and it is. I hope he feels our love with similar confidence. I fucking love that guy. 😀

Sharing the love, and sharing the building.

No idea what the weekend holds; we’ve changed our plans a couple times already. All that matters, really, is to enjoy it together. 🙂

Oh, hey – Valentine’s Day again. lol My thoughts on this day are complicated…

2013 – How about I be my own Valentine? (oddly my most popular post of all time)

2014 – (Love is) Enough Already

2015 – A Little Matter of Sufficiency

2016 – Love’s Magic Mirror

2017 – It’s Okay to Love

2018 – Happy VD!

2019 – Let It Go (not even about Valentine’s Day)

2020 – Press Pause (also not actually about Valentine’s Day)

2021 – I just didn’t even write, at all

2022 – It’s Got a Good Beat (actually written the day after Valentine’s Day)

Some years I’ve spent Valentine’s Day alone. That hasn’t been a problem for me. Other years I’ve enjoyed the companionship of friends, or in the embrace of a lover, or with my Traveling Partner. In the abstract, I enjoy the idea of a holiday celebrating sexual and romantic love very much. I still think it is super weird that card giveaways by multitudes of school children have anything at all to do with that. Just seems wildly inappropriate to mix all those things up together, is what I’m saying.

Last night my Traveling Partner looked over at me, “I didn’t get you anything for Valentine’s Day” he observed with a somewhat regretful tone. “I didn’t get you anything either.” I replied, rather matter-of-factly. I immediately felt that perhaps I should have – although most years we haven’t done anything much about Valentine’s Day besides love each other. Last year was unusual – fairly spectacular, honestly. This year I made plans to make a really nice dinner for the two of us, nothing exotic, just good cooking. I am even counting on myself not to be shy about romance and instigating some adult fun after work. My anxiety can sometimes get in my way, and the awareness of it alone can provoke it, but I’m feeling good about myself and the day, and my partner, and love generally, so… I have hopes for a pleasant evening of companionship, love, and romance. Expensive gifts are not a requirement.

It hits me out of the blue; intimacy needs presence not presents. I could have taken the day off and spent it in the company of love. Fucking hell. How is this only now something I think of? I make a reminder on my calendar in the distant future – a year away, minus a couple weeks, “Get Valentine’s Day Off!!”. Along the way, I notice the long weekend coming up with unexpected relief and delight; I apparently thought ahead to planning Friday off in advance of the 3-day President’s Day weekend. Damn, I hope I don’t blow it with my bullshit… we could really use a lovely long weekend spent enjoying each other’s company.

“Lovers” 1991

Love takes work. Not one day of cards, flowers, gifts, and chocolates – real work, every day. Real commitment. Real consideration. Real respect. Real caring. No faking it with love, either. Love sees through fakery pretty easily, in spite of all the “love is blind” shit we hear. Love can be hurt. Love can be damaged. Love can even be destroyed – how tragic that is! I take a breath, and think about love. I sigh out loud in this quiet space, and remind myself how many delightful wonderful experiences still take some effort, or some practice, to really “get it right”. I think about love for a few minutes, just sitting here smiling and sipping my coffee.

…I’m fortunate to be so well loved…

“Cherry Blossoms” 2011

I yawn and stretch, and watch the dark of night give way to the pale blue gray of a wintry dawn. I think about my Traveling Partner, still asleep at home, unaware of the snow that fell during the night. I hope his dreams are pleasant. I think back on all the things he’s done to make life better for us over the past couple of years since he moved back in with me… it’s been, what, about 4 years? December 2018, I think…? Wow. We’ve come so far together in such a short time. 😀

I sit here just smiling for awhile, thinking about this human being I love so dearly. I think about yesterday’s bit of writing, and better ways to demonstrate my affection day-to-day…

…It’s time to begin again.

…To the one(s) I love (right now)… 🙂

It’s my Traveling Partner’s birthday, today. It’s been my great good fortune, now, to share his birthday with him for 10 of them. Wow. Quite a bit of time together. It’s gone by rather quickly. 😀

I find it sometimes a bit challenging to find gifts that will suit his taste, and his current activities and interests. Sometimes costs put a neat idea quite out of reach. This year, the real challenge is that we both have what we need, and we’re together; everything else feels “extra”. I did find a couple gift-worthy items that I hope he likes, and I definitely “went for it” with the cake and ice cream. lol My time, my presence – that, too. I’m taking half a day off to enjoy with him. 😀

I slept like crap last night. I mean… I woke an hour or so after I went to bed, and couldn’t fall back to sleep until sometime well after midnight. The sleep I got was fine. I’m tired and in pain, though. I’d like to feel young and fit and thoroughly joyful today, for sure. Gotta make do with this mortal form and all the challenges that go with that – and avoid taking any of it at all personally. Aging? Yeah – totally impersonal. lol

So… looks like today will balance genuine joy and celebration, and the precious gift of our limited mortal time together – balanced with the unfortunate truths of aches, pains, and mortality itself. lol Still – this human traveling sharing life’s journey with me? Now that’s a life worth celebrating. 😀 Certainly my life would be very different today if I were without his companionship and love.

…Don’t forget to tell those special human beings in your life how special they are.

I have a beautiful spring weekend on the coast planned, to be spent in a ‘spa cottage’ a block from the beach, in a community more village than town, small, intimate, friendly. Time planned for stillness, for tenderness, for meditation, yoga, and long conversations with a new love. It sounds wonderfully romantic.

Oh, to be sure, this love of mine has been part of my life for years, a timeless measure of time that feels like ‘always’. ‘New love’ hardly describes the chronology of our life together… but somehow, I have been remiss where love is concerned. Blind? To be sure; blind to her needs, her heart, even her beauty. Deaf to her words, her poetry, and that creative spark that makes her so much of who she is. I’ve been so hard on her, for so long. So often forcing to her scream what could have been whispered. I’m very fortunate that she stuck it out long enough to see me turn toward her loveliness with real affection in my eyes. I’m very sorry she had to wait so long.  

She will probably always seem about 22 to me; frozen in memory at that pinnacle of youthful beauty we each achieve, so often unnoticed until it has passed by. I have a photograph of her, then, dark-haired, fair, eyes-closed, thoughtful, mouth relaxed, she is calm and quiet; she is in a bubble bath, photographed on the sly, unaware of the subtle intrusion on her precious privacy.



I know so much about her, and until I realized how much love there is between us, I didn’t realize how little that knowledge meant for understanding her. Still, I know things. I know she thinks she’s fat. She struggles to ‘feel heard’ but doesn’t have words for her frustration, and too many for everything else. She rarely sheds tears, and when she succumbs to ‘crying’ it is often wordless, soundless, stuck like a scream frozen on a paused movie, that becomes garbled vocalizations of fury or terror through the force of her will. She yields to her animal nature as if forced, as though there might be something to prove, and perhaps in the proof she might find something like a soul; being too near her heat, her passion, her childish rage is hard to bear. I berate her for her impulsiveness and resent her lack of control. So often I have wanted to comfort her – or beat the hell out of her; unable to choose, I would choose instead to silence her, or leave her in pieces, alone. I did not want to believe she needed to be cared for; so often tenderness seemed the only thing that could move her to tears, at all. I know she doesn’t like to be touched by strangers, and doesn’t distinguish between sex and love; she says “love is a fraud, but sex is something I can feel’.  I know how she really feels when she says it. I know about her pain. I know she has a lifetime ahead of her, and finding her way will likely take all of it.

I know she doesn’t know how much she will survive, or how much she will change, in the years ahead of her in that photo.

Complicated, broken, she means the world to me now, and I wonder what I could do to ‘make it all up to her’ somehow. A quiet spring weekend at the coast, the luxury of being utterly heard, cared for, attended to – it’s just a down payment on a very large debt. She’s stuck it out with me, you see. It wasn’t ever certain that she would.

This weekend I’ll take the trip to the coast, for some solo time, getting to know this woman I love, hearing her stories anew, with compassion, and patience – I know she needs that from me. We’ve come a long way together, this me-of-22, and I. It’s been ugly, and more than once seemed at the edge of what could be suffered. It’s time we got together over a coffee or two, and really shared now together; there are things she never knew, that I’d like to share with her – like my love.