magnolia

i write a lot about stress, and crisis, and love in a time of both. besides the fact that, well, that’s the state of my life half the time, it’s always been fascinating to see how people in love deal with problems. i’ve been on both sides of this equation throughout my dating and relationship-having time on this earth. sometimes, in the words of the old don henley/patty smyth song, love just ain’t enough, and you just can’t weather the storm. been there. see also: the marriage, and its ending. ‘course, if you really parse that relationship, it wasn’t built for the tough times. how can you prepare for things like life when you’re basing your whole reality on being teenage kids together?

heh. hmm. wow. that’s unintentionally a hilarious segue into now.

the man and i were teenage kids together, too. he’s my best friend since adolescence. but the reality we have isn’t based on that alone. we took a longer road to where we are, and we have so many scars to show that we’ve learned things. (i, for the record, am the one who needs more lessons in this relationship. i have to avoid the specter of CONSTANT CRITICAL COMPARISON WITH WHAT I WAS BEFORE, which is written all in caps because i do this all the time. he spends a fair amount of time patiently repeating the phrase we are not that. it’s a hard thing to internalize, despite how obvious it is. but i digress.)

i woke up this morning in a particularly moony-gooey-sweet state of mind over our relationship. y’know, that oh, lord, get a ROOM already kind of romance that nauseates the all-holy hell out of everyone around you when you live it out. but as i got dressed for work and kissed my sleeping beloved goodbye, all i could keep thinking was, i swear to you, the following:

you must be my lucky star
’cause you shine on me wherever you are

i know, right? SO saccharine. but in a lot of ways, the man really is my lucky star. he’s been a quietly loyal friend for more years than i care to count. it’s never been a big drama thing – whenever one of us needed the other, we’d just find our way to one another. sometimes it was just a late-night IM session across the miles. other times, it was a last-second car trip across the commonwealth to pour our hearts out over fried food. it’s been the one rock i’ve had in the life i chose to lead: when things got too scary, or too hard, or too infuriating, he was there. quietly, loyally there. i tried to be the same for him, too, when he let a need slip through his placid emotional management system. (seriously, he should lead seminars: he doesn’t ignore or push down; he really just lets it roll off his back. it’s AMAZING.)

and into the tornado that my life was – and to a certain extent still is – he walked, clear-eyed, and accepted it all. besides, y’know, sharing a bed every night, nothing has really changed in the dynamic. when one of us needs the other, we have one another. when i am ginned up over any number of crises and stressors, he is quietly, loyally there. he shines on me wherever he is. and man alive, am i lucky to have him.

thus endeth the saccharine.