I had a great weekend away, recharging my batteries with my boyfriend. I laughed and smiled so much my face hurt. We talked about some really silly stuff, and we took on some very deep topics. We were just…together. On my way home, alone in the car, I was excited to get back and see my husband, but I was also crying because I was so sad to leave my paramour. How can I feel two things that seem in opposition so strongly? The answer came to me while I was still driving (and possibly very hungry.)
I really enjoy a good food metaphor!
I love the “Original” at Salvatore’s. It is the perfect slice. I could eat it every day and never grow weary of it. However, I also love a medium rare bacon wrapped tenderloin from the Mic Mac. I think it is the perfect steak. The fact is they are both perfect. They are very different meals, and I crave them both equally. Just not at the same time. Could I pick a favorite? Honestly, I don’t know.
I know what you are thinking “But Ninja Princess, people are nothing like food!” You’re right, people are much more complicated than a good meal. Which is why my next thought was about my family.
My mom was a really special human. She always made me feel like I was important, that I was special, and that I was the most loved person in the world. I will bet you $100 if you asked my brothers, they would tell you she made them feel the exact same way. The reason all three of us felt so loved is because parents know that love is not a zero sum game. You don’t love your first child any less when baby number two comes along. You don’t have to divide your love into equal sized portions leaving one or more of your children left wanting. This because any parent will tell you the well of love they have to draw from is endless.
Why is it that we expect anything different from romantic love?
As I mentioned in What I Want You to Know, I love my husband very much. He is my best friend in the whole world. We haven’t stayed together for 17 years by accident. He is funny, smart, and kind, plus his drive and ambition are truly something to marvel at. Watching him grow as a human has been a genuine pleasure. When we are old(er) and gray(er) we are going to be cracking each other up in our adjoining rooms in the nursing home. We are going to continue to cheer for each other, support each other, annoy each other, and make each other laugh. No matter how hard things sometimes get — and, let’s face it, they put “in good times and bad” in those vows for a reason — my well never runs dry.
My boyfriend and I don’t have that kind of history to draw on. We are still new and shiny to each other, exploring what makes us tick. New memories are being made, inside jokes are forming. Every encounter we have is a trust-building exercise. It is exciting and terrifying; it puts a foolish, girly spring in my step, and I love it. Instead of diminishing my well, the love and affection I get from him just continues to fill it. My cup runneth over.
The more love I receive the more I have to share. Personally I think a world with more love in it is a good thing, don’t you?!