I’m not even sure I know precisely what that phrase “the love of my life” means. Is it just five simple words uttered in a moment of romantic bliss when the stars and moon have aligned perfectly and it’s the only fitting expression sufficient for the occasion? Does it mean everything, anything, or nothing at all?
I’m someone who puts a great deal of emphasis on words. To be the love of my life implies that I’ve forsaken all others, that out on a sea of endless opportunities I’ve purposefully landed on your shores, used the boat for kindling, opened a Tiki bar, and plan on never leaving. To me, the idea of being the love of one’s life is just that – love for life.
Are there unspoken rules with this expression? Like saying “I love you” is the other person somewhat obligated to respond in kind? With that little word ‘life’ is it a one and done? Meaning only one person can be the love of her life? Is there an expiration date or does it only apply to whomever you’re with at the moment? In other words you are the love of my life for right now?
Should the relationship be at a certain stage before he can express that without sounding like a desperate lovesick puppy who is more enamored with the idea of being in love? I mean if he hasn’t even had the chance to leave a toilet seat up yet, is it even possible he’s the love of her life? If he hasn’t met her parents or that one obnoxious sister for Thanksgiving dinner can he legitimately say it without sounding like Turbo the Relationship Accelerator?
Does telling someone they’re the love of your life come with a recession period? If who I thought was the love of my life turns out to be a nympho, porn start wannabe who can’t seem to keep other men’s pens out of her ink do I get to change my answer – can I call a mulligan?
We make love so complicated.
Today marks my three-year anniversary with the Queen. Before I continue it should be noted that I catch nine kinds of hell for calling her that. Why? Jealousy I suppose. Out of everything that I could have gone with I felt royalty was the most fitting as it’s a constant reminder for how I should treat her every day.
Last year, my first year of this blog, I wrote a post about our second anniversary. She printed it out, showed it to her parents, forwarded it to all of her friends, several co-workers and still reads it when the mood strikes. I believe she cherishes that more than any gift I could have bought from a department store – except David Yurman.
It’s often said that things fizzle in the second year of a relationship. The romance, affection, and effort start to wane as life wears on and the newness wears off. That hasn’t happen to us. Even three years later we still text each other as if we met last week and we’re just as content being by ourselves than in a group – often we prefer it that way.
Our relationship is the envy of several of our friends. I know this because they tell us. We’ve been called ‘inspiring’ by others for what we have and they hope for. Above all else ours is a relationship built with the cornerstones of God and respect and both show in our actions towards each other and those around us and we thoroughly understand when either of them goes so does everything else.
Our romance is odd by 21st century standards. We’re both divorced parents thoroughly involved in our kids’ lives but we don’t live together and we’ve had a grand total of two arguments in three years. We met at a bar and our first date was at church, which we’ve attended almost every Sunday since.
She’s my chopper riding compadre, the first person I talk to every morning and the last one I say ‘good-night’ to every evening. Her text messages still make me feel like a school boy and she’s my first line of defense when life throws me a curve ball.
If someone were to ask me to say the first thought that comes to mind when I think of her, it wouldn’t be the beautiful face, warm smile, or strong character. It would be…
“she makes me want to be a better man”
Her influence on my life is that profound.
I can’t predict what the future holds or what’s next in God’s providence for our lives. What is certain is when the sun begins to set on my years upon this earth, when the hourglass of time starts running low and all that’s left are the withered memories of this life, all I want is my shriveled hand to be lovingly caressed by my Queen’s and for the world to have known — she’s the love of his life.