Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
There was a time in my life that I flowed down the river of communal teachings. If a man loved you, he would buy you things. Especially, on Valentine's day. Of all the day of the year, this was the day he was supposed to do-it-up right. The one that he should never forget outside of his anniversary. The one that has to be perfect. I imagine across the board many of us are brought up this way. After my second engagement busted, I gave up a lot of those types of expectations. I think that I also gave up on finding love - though I loved.
I have been without a partner for some time. It has been far lonelier than I care to admit. It has not been since my relocation that I understand just how dark my days have been. When you have been alone this long, you pick apart the things of the past. Searching your memories for the good times and try to understand why things did not work. It is during this deep reflection that you also learn that what you thought was annoying and intolerable was trivial. You will find that having the trivial in your darkest times is as beautiful as morning dew in the desert.
Case-in-point sleeping in the wet spot. Nobody wants to sleep there and you will argue and fuss it.
I tell you I miss that stupid wet spot. 💗 And the adorably stupid arguments that went with it.
She was like the moon—part of her was always hidden away.
― Dia Reeves, Bleeding Violet
I love to talk and communicate. Learning about people. Providing my thoughts to help see a perspective or a path. Writing gives me time to sort the thoughts in my mind. Like these moments. You would think that with all that I am able to give to you that you have seen through to my deepest depths. That is not the case. The easiest way to hide is in plain sight.
Last night, I did the math. It has been more than twenty years since I've received a gift from a lover on Valentine's Day. I paused for a moment and marveled a bit. When I set my mind to something, it is ironclad. I am quite stubborn that way. But, twenty years, I thought. How hard had I been fighting and what was I fighting for... or against?
Why was there so much fear in my heart?
I still love, but I am afraid of love. How silly is that, really? The one connection I want the most I cannot have. That deep mutual connection with a dominant man who won't run from what is behind that door. He will accept what is there and protect me as we walk together. He will welcome me back to the world and be a steady foundation on which I can rebuild.
My garden is his to the one who has the key.
- ill 🌸