Engagement Series 1/3: How Can I Love You? Engagement Series 2/3: The Return of the Ring Engagement Series 3/3: Sponge Bathing, with love
If you like it, do you have to put a ring on it?
Me: I mean, yes. I’ll marry you. Someday. I love you. Truly, madly, deeply. You know.
Stacey (sheepishly): Yea, baby. I know.
Me: Can I see the ring?
Stacey reluctantly handed over the small Zales box. I cracked the top open. A simple, slender white band was inside. On top of the ring, a fairy-sized little chip was encircled. It was just how I felt about Stacey. Her love was encompassing and quiet with a touch of rock star.
I put the band on my right ring finger. It was a little big, so that meant it would fit my left ring finger perfectly. Someday.
Stacey: You don’t have to do that.
Me: I know. But today is a promise. To you and me. To be honest. You know I’m getting better at speaking up, but I just joined CoDA, and the road to healthy seems long. Anyway, the kids still think that you are, like, 15 years younger than me. Like a nanny.
Stacey (cracking a smile): Yea, you are my older woman.
UPDATE: Stacey is only 20 months younger than me.
One year prior: same doorway.
Stacey: Hey, sweetheart. Can we talk? Maybe tomorrow?
Ohmygod. Why would she need to talk to me? Did I do something? Did I say something? Shit. Shit. Shit. Today is just starting and then I have to wait all the way to tomorrow before I can know what the status of our relationship is. I won’t even be able to sleep and then I’m going to be so tired from work and then I’ll be cranky by dinner time and then I’ll eat more than my body weight in m&ms before bed because I’ll just eat them without really tasting them and then keep eating them to see if I can taste them. If it was something small, she wouldn’t need to schedule a time with me. Why can’t she come out and just say it now? I thought we were doing so well. What am I going to do without her? This is just so sudden. I mean, with me just having gone through divorce, it’s not like it’s the best time for a real relationship anyway. Why does it always seem that I either already have someone in mind or I actually have someone to move on to? It all started when I was 16. Wait. That directly coincides with when I started drinking coffee. I’ll have to think about that another time. Man, I have issues. Maybe I do need that support group my therapist mentioned. CoDA, was it?
Three Years Prior: in a doorway
All the lights in our middle-class 90’s-style suburban house were on. The air was charged. In a bad way.
Mark was in a bad mood. He was mad AND asking questions. Like, directly asking. Normally, this would be time for me to calm him down. But, I’m pissed, too. I’m the flower that’s fed up with being a bud. Why does he think anything I read from self-help books is stupid? Why does he think that counselors and therapists don’t help? You know what? His ability to rationalize away everything is not helping our marriage, either.
I have seen our marriage counselor without him (he quit going), and she had some advice. Time to use it.
I fast-walked from the doorway into our bedroom. In one big step, I got on our bed. And I stood. On. The. Bed. I was taller than Mark. Shock and awe swept across his face. Yes, just like the war with Iraq. He went quiet. The charge dissipated. I sat down. Then he sat down. We talked. And that was the hardest thing I ever had to do.
The Return of the Ring
Me: Stacey, I love you. But I’m really nervous about getting married again. How about we talk about it. What does tomorrow look like? Maybe we can sit over some coffee?
Stacey: Sure, sweetheart. That sounds great.
<<hugs>><<tears>>
POEM: What I want for you
I want you to fly. I want you to fall. I want you to live without any regard for them, at all. I want you to soar. I want you to break. I want you to revel without your ego hiding you from risks you need to take. I want you to love. I want you to lose. I want you to laugh without giving up your right to choose. I want you to roam. I want you to bleed. I want you to, stand, speak knowing you have everything you need.
The SoulJourner Question
PROMPT: Okay, so that poem and story is written for anyone – engaged, married, or not. Yes, you are not alone. Yes, you will need support. And snacks. And naps. Yes, life is difficult; HOWEVER, you weren’t made to slice off yourself to feed others, either.
If you accept your God-given place and listen, you will find all the love, bravery, fire, and answers inside that you need to keep you fed and nourished. Thoughts?
Ready for the last story? Engagement Series 3/3: Sponge Bathing, with love
