The Daily Write
True Love Isn’t Always an Adventure
Happy endings never look like the movies
I met my husband when I was 17 years old.
I walked into a classroom, and he stared me down.
I had no idea who he was. All I could think was, “What a schmuck!”
Then a little voice in the back of my head laughed, and I had a strong sensation that he was going to be a very important person in my life.
We were seniors in high school and had no business becoming life partners.
But like most choices in life, it wasn’t one big decision; it was a gazillion tiny decisions that the universe pressed us into.
And along the way, we kept (mostly) getting along and (mostly) enjoying each other.
In our last semester of high school, we got trapped between two avalanches after an epic snowstorm. It took a week of snow removal before anyone could use the highway for driving. The road crew turned a short section of the highway into a runway for people to fly out, but we stayed behind and shoveled people’s roofs for pay. When we finally headed home, our wallets and hearts were a little fuller.
Less than six months later, we spent two months in Central America together and bummed around Guatemala. A monkey peed on my head and we nearly escaped being bitten by poisonous spiders. We clutched our Lonely Planet books tightly as we bumped along dirt roads on buses in a country where we could barely speak the language.
Writing these memories makes me a little sad. The years have made me more serious and less spontaneous. When we were in high school, it felt like our whole lives would be one big adventure.
But then we pivoted. Finishing college was my priority. We bought property very young, and I knew it was a kind of secular marriage. He started a business and while other friends continued having wild adventures; we stayed home.
Along the way, we failed each other. There were many times he wasn’t there when I needed him and my resentments grew deep. There were many times I could have been more “free-spirited” but I insisted we play by the rules. I could be driven and shut him out. It hurt him. We hurt each other.
My husband is a kite surfer, and that interest dominated much of his spare time in his thirties. I felt like he chose his passion for kiting over me and our small kids. Recently, he stopped me in the middle of rattling on about where/when we needed to ferry kids around, and he said “I know I was obsessed with kiting when the kids were little and I wasn’t always there for you. I’m sorry.”
And it wasn’t one of those apologies that we fling at each other in the hopes of just getting on with things. It was genuine, and, even more powerful, I was ready to accept it.
That’s what true love is: riding out the adventures, boredom, incessant work, disappointments, zingers, grief — and somehow still seeing the bright light in the person you made your life with.
Key Message: Falling in love when you’re young is risky business. But sometimes it works out when both people grow together.
This is in response to day five of Midform’s June writing challenge, “Do you believe in true love? Why or why not?” For a complete list of prompts, click here.
Megan Llorente and Dawn Smiles you’re slaying me with this challenge. I’m out of breath! I can’t keep up! I didn’t even expect to join…but here I am doggy paddling my way through!
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