Mature Love

Today is my love’s Birthday. 

I remember the times in my twenties when a good amount of my time and energy was focused on finding love. Even starting with the question – is this person the one – is the wrong question, for it thickens the space between with a loaded set of expectations and impossibilities. Getting to know the other with this loaded space cannot be done, as our view is so warped.

I wish someone had taught me that. Do not seek for love. Live life as love. Be love. Live your life as an expression of love. Untangle all of the knots inside that say you are not worthy. 

Be worthy of yourself; be kind to yourself. 

My love and I never dated. We laugh about that now in blessed relief. For over half a year, we did not see each other as partners. We were simply strangers who became friends. 

And one day, that changed. 

Rare is it to find a man who honours strong women. Being raised by a single mother might do that. Becoming a single dad at age 22 might also increase the ability to know the role of motherhood and fatherhood.

Every day, I wake blessed. The kindest, smartest, most thoughtful man is beside me. He makes me laugh so hard that my stomach hurts. He is the steady in my chaos, unafraid to challenge me when I’m too extreme. I need this. 

After five years, I am still totally addicted to being with my love because with him, I am a better person, and we flow so effortlessly in each other’s company. I am still in awe of our together ease.

My world has shifted to honouring the simple delights of cooking together, camping in Nature and surfing. I would never have picked this.

I never knew this type of love was possible. We dream of it in our youth. 

There is truly something to be said for mature love. The little, once upon a time they might be annoying things, are irrelevant. There is only being there for each other, growing in respect each day.

Happy Birthday, my love. I cherish every moment, honour your being, and am speechless in gratitude.

Photo Taken May 1st 2024