I was cruising the annals of Tumblr the other day and came across this quote:
Some people are good at being in love. Some people are good at love. Two very different things, I think. Being in love is the romantic part—sex all the time, midday naps in the sheets, the jokes, the laughs, the fun, long conversations with no pauses, overwhelming separation anxiety … Just the best sides of both people, you know? But love begins when the excitement of being in love starts to fade: the stress of life sets in, the butterflies disappear, the sex becomes a chore, the tears, the sadness, the arguments, the cattiness … The worst parts of both people. But if you still want that person by your side through all of those things … that’s when you know—that’s when you know you’re good at love.
I’m not sure who said it, but it struck a chord. I immediately thought of Theresa and I. As of August 25th, we’ve officially been married for six years. Or 2,190 days. That’s both a huge number and a very small number. In the grand scheme of things it’s a drop in the bucket, if that. But it’s also represents (at a minimum) the 2,190 chances I’ve had to put Theresa’s needs, wants, and priorities ahead of mine. I like to think I’m doing an OK job at that, but I’m sure if it was possible to tally up each instance I’d be a little ashamed at how selfish I actually am. And yet. I married an incredible woman. She never holds it against me. She loves me endlessly and completely, in a way that humbles me. I know that I love her more than I’ll ever love anyone else. But sometimes I feel that her love makes mine pale in comparison. The good news is, I know she feels exactly the same way about me.
And after six years, now that we’ve had ample time with “the worst parts of each other”, I still can’t wait to wake up next to her, to adventure with her, and to continue building a life with her. It feels good to think that maybe we’re getting pretty good at love.
Plus, just look at that face.