It’s Been 25 Years
Since my partner and I met. On the Internet. We were pioneers of sorts.
We never married and it matters not.
On this Valentine’s Eve, I want to pay tribute to the man who became my rock, my mirror, and my love.
It wasn’t love at first sight; it was love percolating over time. It’s still percolating a quarter of a century later. Drip by drip, the coffee pot continues to fill. It’s the best kind of love. One that grows; a friendship that will never give up.
Neither is it a Big Passion. Big Passions burn bright but they rarely last. They require each partner to display perfection in appearance and manner. Slow love sees the imperfections, the foibles, the irritations, and still it grows. Despite and because of those things. We learned to laugh instead of scowl, although I can still throw a mean death stare when it’s called for.
We argue, of course we do. But even while we are trading insults and curses, we know we are safe to let off steam. All will be well in an hour or so. This is mostly down to R’s forgiving nature. No not ‘mostly’ — completely. He has a remarkable capacity to let things go, to take the verbal punches, and to forgive me. He’s taught me it’s good to release my tendency to shut down. In my former marriage, shutting down was my automatic defense…
