It surprises me when I find myself loving her more everyday, desiring her more everyday, seeing more beauty in her everyday. I suppose somewhere in some programmed part of my masculine indoctrinated brain I thought that love, like passion, like rain, was a temporal, fleeting experience, to simply be enjoyed while it lasted, and let go of when it faded. I didn’t realize that it was something that could become so deeply rooted into my heart that once it was there, it would recurringly bear fruit, expanding ever outward hungrily into the light, giving gifts far beyond expectation. That love could be a sequoia tree, reigning quietly for centuries, instead of a seasonal flower that wilts at the first sign of frost.
There are tempestuous sweeps of insecurity, anger, possessiveness, etc that overcome me at times. But the roots hold strong, digging down deeper beyond simple walls of self and mind. I am more than me, expanding into her. I question this wonder daily, wondering how it could be, that I am not only now myself, but also us, also we, also this every day connection enwrapping and dancing and strengthening simultaneously outward and inward into an unknown but fully impelled future. These thoughts propel me naturally into mystical contemplations of destiny, soul companionship, and sufi communion with my beloved. But I also recognize fully that every day that exists between us is what we create, what we sustain, what we allow. How fragile at times it seems, especially when I test it too far. But these times also strengthen us, making us see how tightly wound the heart strings hurt when plucked to sing.
There isn’t any way to wrap my mind around this. At some point, I have to lay down my arms and simply surrender to what I know to be real and true and right before me in my heart.