It’s been over a decade that Steve and I have been together. And I’m not one of those types to post a bunch of mushy stuff on social media about us, because that’s not really who we are a lot of times. Much of our time is spent independently – him working and me taking care of our family and home.
We are still in love, but not in the daily-kissing-pictures kind of way. We have a commitment to each other and are still passionate about each other, but we also have roles we play now beyond “boyfriend” and “girlfriend.” Our lives have become more complicated and bigger, with more responsibilities and decisions.
I watch “The Bachelorette” and I’m not even going to say as a guilty pleasure. I don’t feel guilty about it at all. I watch it for the drama and maybe a little bit to watch the beginning stages of love, or something that is a lot like love. Last week, the bachelorette went on a date with a guy that is much like my husband. He is a realist. She is not. So she decided they were not compatible, because he didn’t believe in the fairy-tale type of love. But I knew what that guy was saying. And then I finished this book which explained in words what I couldn’t:
I closed my eyes, and it was Hugh I saw. His hands, the hair on his fingers, the Band-Aids on his thumbs. How real all of that was. How ordinary. How achingly beautiful. I wanted what came after the passion had blown through: flawed, married love…What I want is the enduring. The beautiful enduring. ~ an excerpt from The Mermaid Chair by Sue Monk Kidd
I love the way she puts it. In marriage, it is not all passion all the time. There are fights about chores and money and parenting. There is matching up socks and mowing the lawn and endless loads of dishes. There are budgets and spreadsheets and texts about dinner. It is not the stuff that movies are made of. But it is the stuff that life is made of.
Steve and I chose each other one day a decade ago, and each day, we choose each other again. We choose to endure through our arguments and come out the other side, hopefully a more compromising person. The hardest part of love is the “unconditional” part, but isn’t that what makes it love, after all? Loving for flaws and all. The beautiful enduring.