The Man and I took a walk today just to see some of the pretty color out there right now and to enjoy another spectacular day.
I took my camera with me so that means we didn't walk very fast. On walks like this I usually stop every few minutes or so to take some pics. The Man keeps walking and eventually stops and waits for me. He is so very patient. He likes to walk super fast and take very long strides. I feel like I have to trot to keep up with him. For him to stop and wait for me? That's love.
I've been thinking a lot about love lately. And how it changes over the years. I was talking with someone about this very subject and we were discussing how love feels when you first meet someone and how it feels after you've been married for a long time.
When I first met the Man, my knees would actually get weak the closer I came to seeing him. I couldn't wait for that moment. I thought about him all the time and had a hard time getting anything done. I found myself daydreaming about him and smiling while remembering something he had said. I loved so many things about him. His kind heart. His great big smile. His sense of responsibility. His humor. He was bigger than life for me and set higher than any other man.
I don't know when that feeling changed into something else. Something more. When I felt so entwined with the Man that I didn't feel whole without him. He is as crucial to me as my arm, or my side, or my heart. The giddy feelings of youth were no longer there but something else was and it was good.
After thinking about that, I think I figured out what mature love is, at least for me.
When I was first in love with the Man, there were so many things I loved about him. But after so many years of being together, I now feel that love in spite of so many things.
I love him in spite of the way he always leaves the toilet seat up. I love him in spite of the way he knows how to push my buttons and does so at times. I love him in spite of the micromanaging (his need to be organized) and his propensity for leaving me lists of things to do. I love him in spite of the way he shifts all the laundry around to make sure his gets done, leaving laundry that belongs to someone else in baskets on the floor. I love him in spite of the way he forgets to pick up tools after working on a project in the house and I have to do it because I get tired of tripping over them.
See? All of these things could be negative and become reasons to be angry and hurt and be cause to argue and let those hurts cause distance between us. But not with a mature love. With that kind of love you understand that your mate isn't perfect. And it's okay.
That's the kind of love I want and the kind of love we have. A love that accepts each other the way we are.
My knees may not get weak anymore when I think about seeing the Man, but I'm okay with that. Because my feet are on solid ground with him and that's enough for me.
Happy anniversary, man of mine. I love you.