Letter of Love in QUOTIDIEN

I can’t do it. I’ve had my fingers hovering over the keyboard throughout the day, searching for the words to express my love to my husband. What a word, ‘love’. If you pay heed to society’s insistence that love=perfect unity , perfect joy, perfect happiness, you wind up never having known love.

All that comes to mind is that the beginning of our relationship felt like Spring. Everything was fresh, and warm. Healing. A coming out of the death of my broken life, as it was then. He welcomed me - embraced me - and knew me. This was not a meeting of two individuals…but an instant recognition between souls.

And the end was about the brilliant, starlit night, brazen moon, and still waters. Cool breezes and comfort. There was balance, and quiet. We had quit taking ourselves so seriously after the fiery summers. We’d weathered the worst of blustery Falls together..... and suddenly, no seasons. Just the night. The quiet. The knowing without any need for the brilliance of daylight to guide our paths. We just knew. We were just as intended to belong to one another as the seasons are meant to belong to this earth - and just as connected as day is to night.

This was our love - ever changing, from one beautiful season to the next. From one state of being, to another. This was my love. In spite of everything…this continues to be true, dammit. So - which hurts worse - the letter detailing the anger....or the letter describing my love? The tears taste the same!

All that I have left to give, now, is the gift of forgiveness - to us both. With this act, borne out of love, I banish the broken pieces, the sorrow, the pain, the anger, the suffering. 

My Sweet - may my love find you, wherever you may be, and know that I desire only that you’ve found your peace, your balance.