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Not long after I decided to leave my husband I met someone new. I was working part-time at a book store and he was a publisher’s rep. We would go for coffee or walks in the park and have long, stimulating conversations. We spent hours on the phone talking about literature, philosophy, the arts, religion—things I loved but my husband had no interest in. I could feel myself falling in love with him, thinking perhaps he was the “soul mate” I’d always longed for. He seemed to feel the same way about me.
I had already asked my husband for a separation, suggesting he move out. He only laughed and said he wasn’t going anywhere. I knew I would have to be the one to go and began planning my escape. Soon, I thought, terrified by what he might do if he knew I was already seeing someone.
Then he found out. When he confronted me, I told him the truth, that I had fallen in love with someone else. I was astounded by his response. It was so unlike anything I had imagined. He said he did not blame me. He had always known that I was “too good” for him, and if this man was better, he’d step out of the way.
But after confronting the man too, after meeting and talking with him, he said the man wasn’t good enough. He was the better man, and he wanted me to give him another chance. He was sure he could make me fall in love with him again. And while I knew that was impossible, I felt I had no other choice but to let him try. After so many years together, I knew I owed him, and our marriage, at least that much. Eventually he’d realize it was futile, and then he’d have to let me go.
It was hard at first. I felt I had put my real life in limbo, and was living a lie. I mourned my lost love. The life I imagined spending with him was like a shadow that followed me everywhere. I feared it was a life we might never realize together—at least in this life time. That’s when I wrote the following poem.
The Other
It’s amazing how you multiply as time moves
Everywhere I see your face appear
It grows more clear the longer we are parted
Like time itself conspires to bring you near.
Sometimes I feel your presence close behind me
Where I could turn to find you standing there
Turn toward arms pressed close about me
As if mere motion was the answer to my prayers.
Sometimes your presence seems to float before me
Upon a sea of bright tranquility
I watch my soul swept out to meet you
And marvel at mind’s sweet complicity.
Sometimes I feel as if I were a twosome
And one of me moves never far from you,
The other is mere exercise in motion
Eclipsing everything in me that’s true.
Someday I pray that we shall sit together
Before a sea resplendent in the sun
We’ll eat a little morning meal together
Before we rise into new life as one.
Eventually this sense of sadness faded. My husband and I began “dating” again. We spent long leisurely weekends together going to concerts and museums and strolls along the beach. We began cultivating a taste for California wines and listening to jazz music together. We chartered sailboats in the Caribbean and renewed our dream to sail around the world together.
Little by little I began falling back in love with him. It began with a deep respect for how he had reacted when I told him I’d fallen for someone else. There was no anger, no accusations, no recriminations. No jealousy or hurt feelings that I could tell. Never did he hold it against me, or try to make me feel I had wronged him. He absolved me of all blame. All he wanted was the opportunity to prove he was the better man, prove he could love me enough to make me want to stay with him. How could I not love that?
I realized I had deeply underestimated him. He revealed a strength of character and depth of love that I hadn’t realized he possessed. A dignity and humility and gentleness I hadn’t seen before. This was the foundation upon which the renewed love I felt for him grew. And it was the stronger and richer for it.
Now looking back, that period in our marriage seems like an aberration, a mirage almost. I barely remember the name of the man I thought I’d loved, and his bitter assessment of the whole affair—that I willed myself to love him to have the courage to leave—may have the ring of truth.
Despite this happy ending to that episode in our marriage, it wasn’t the last time our love was tested and bent near breaking. But never again without the hope that this too would mend in time and make us stronger. And it did.
Love is the hardest thing we can ever do—love for our spouses, our children, our parents, ourselves, each other. Love for the world we live in. Love for that which created all of this. If we think love’s easy or should be easy, that it won’t have radical mood swings, won’t lift us up and throw us down, won’t drift away when we’re not attentive, won’t wither if we’re not feeding it, or spring back, full and fresh, when we water it with patience and kindness, then we don’t know love at all. And maybe we can’t know it, until we live it, and let it live in us.
NOTE: This post originally was supposed to be part of a series of poems I’ve written to celebrate April as National Poetry Month. A way to let a few love poems I’d written long ago see the light of day. Eventually it morphed into something else–a memoir of our marriage, or an anatomy of love as it evolves over time. Below are all five posts in the series, which seem to cover married love in all of its manifestations: Innocent love, erotic love, disappointed love, love lost, love renewed, and love that lasts. The last one was Freshly Pressed.
Silly Little Love Poems, Unloosed at Last
It’s lovely how this story turns out–that you revitalized the relationship you had rather than moving on to the next one. Sometimes married life is not so exciting and we retreat into ourselves, but shared experience means so much. We just need to work a little harder to bring out the best in each other.
Yes, it surprised me at the time too. But now I’m so glad it turned out this way.
Wow, what an interesting and profoundly real story–thanks for sharing.
Thank you! I’m so glad you enjoyed it.
Having read the first part, I would never have guessed or believed what would follow, that really is an inspiring love story!
Thank you. It surprised me as well–I wouldn’t have guessed it either. It’s those unexpected turns in life that can make it so interesting.
I’m so enjoying this series, Deborah. I don’t want to diminish this in any way, so I hope you don’t mind my saying that as I’ve followed along, the visuals it elicits are so enticing that it could be a PBS drama that I wait for each week to hearten the load of the rest of the week. I am delighted that you’ve chosen to share your beautiful love story. Long term marriages are so rare nowadays. Thank you!
Comparing this to a PBS drama is such a lovely compliment! Thank you! I’ve been having fun with this series and so glad you are enjoying it too.
Now that’s a wonderful story. Love isn’t easy, you have to want it really bad for it to endure. I think that is the beauty of writing, where you start is not where you end up, and often the journey is where we discover. I know that’s what is said of life, but as you noted, you started with the intention to write a poem, and ended up with memoir in the making. I think I missed a post, must go back and look.
Yes, I do love that way writing will take you in a direction you hadn’t plan, which often turns out the better for it. Thank you so much for stopping and writing.
Incredible story – series of stories, actually. I am impressed and awed by your journey, and thanks for sharing it!
Thank you so much! I was wondering if perhaps I had shared too much, but after all the positive replies, I’m glad I did.
Me too. Lots of people share whatever experience you can think of on WordPress. I’ve seen lots of stories of loves that were stretched thin, and either snapped in half or snapped back.
Isn’t it great when we start a writing project thinking it will go one way, but then it goes in the complete opposite direction? I think you should turn this into a memoir! Or maybe a collection of personal essays. I found myself wanting to know this story completely–I wanted to hear the dialogue, revel in the inner thoughts, etc. I don’t know, it might be worth pursuing!
Hmmm . . . I’ll have to think about that. It might be fun to try! I sure appreciate your suggestion and so glad you’ve been enjoying this story.
oh wow deborah. am way younger but I am already in love with the love the two of you have cultivated for each other. (I do not mean to offend here) Am overwhelmed at the existence of such strength of love in this world where many of us have only seen heartaches.
once again, i thank you for making me believe and a lot more.
You are so welcome. It’s nice to be able to share my life experiences with others who may find them meaningful. As you are living through it, you don’t know how this episode in your life will end. Only in hindsight can we see the good that came from what appeared to be an unhappy situation.
indeed deborah. you’ve shared some wonderful moments…thanks again
I am so happy for you that you and your husband have such a success story of a lasting marriage. I invite you to please check out my life-story page as well as my blog, if you would like. Thanks!
Thank you! I will check out your site as well.
I couldn’t find your site? Is it down now?
Honest and beautiful. I really loved this!
I am so glad you enjoyed this! Thanks for reading and responding to it.