True Love

Over the past decade I’ve realized something about the evolution of love. It really is like the old cliche, “it’s like a fine wine….”

When love begins to grab hold, it’s roots are shallow- like a pretty spring flower. As time, and life, goes on its roots strengthen into that of an aged oak that stood through snow, and heat, and an Arkansas spring storm (or two) with its fierce lightning and twirling winds. Love no longer concentrates on butterflies and impressions, it’s too busy paying the light bill and shuttling the kids to ball practice.

That shift in the relationship, though, is something I’ve come to truly- dare I say- love. What most young people would look at and consider quite boring, I emphatically embrace.

Our love is not expressed by twenty- seven text messages and fancy gifts. Nor is it the emotional roller coaster of early on. Our love is me getting up a half hour early to fix his coffee just the way he likes it when I know he’s going to have a long day. It’s him starting my truck every time it’s slightly chilly because he knows I can’t stand to be cold.

Love is when he’s worked 12+hours that day and stops on the side of the road to pick me my favorite wildflowers. It’s everytime I make his favorite dinner, and he makes my dessert. Our love is a solid understanding of two souls that have no secrets. We know each other’s fears and regrets, and share the same hopes and dreams.

I see articles about rekindling romance and re-lighting sparks and I say pish-posh. Just because passion and romance are expressed differently does not mean they are dead. I love my husband better than I did back then because I know him deeper. We don’t need generic expressions of love because we know the words and actions that touch each other’s souls.

Sometimes we work in such harmony that we forget we can only exist as a pair. In those moments the heated arguements of young love are not needed. Whole conversations can be had with just a few words, a look into each other’s eyes, and a realignment of souls.

Young love is the hare, and we are the tortoise. We win this race.



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