Divorce Journal Entry #12

2:12 am

Love.
A simple word so often misunderstood
or even worse, not properly shared.
To me this word is dual-purposed.

Love to me began in a rachetball room,
where very few nice words were ever exchanged.
I think of a van trip where love could
do nothing but laugh at newspaper-face-man.
Love was a very kind and compassionate one
to see youth lives change through The word of God.
Love was a simple walk in the fog,
losing all bearings on direction;
a dance on the river
with ‘I love you’ inscribed in the snow.
I remember a Simon and Garfunkel cd
that made love smile,
or sitting in the car with no one around but each other
listening to Chicago over-and-over.
I will never forget seeing the lights of Times Square on love’s face,
or having portraits drawn of us
before jumping on a cold subway.
I think of the moment I saw love
breech the double doors and begin the slow walk forward;
she was more beautiful than I’d ever seen before.
The vows were so tender, so sweet.
Despite the grand event, my feeling for love had only begun.

I remember the joy of our first apartment,
nothing elaborate but it was ours.
Love laughed with me as her parents
were on the way over and we discussed the
awkwardness of facing her father that first morning.
Love was a pina-colada on the beach
with no time restrictions, just each other.
I think of the times I visited love at the grocery store
while she slaved to feed the older people wanting lunch.
Love had her own dark red helmet
that would muffle her voice and cover her head
while riding unaware of time and stress.
I remember a prayerful trip into Illinois
as love was receiving a new car…
we still made Survivor that night.

I think of love as we moved into a small Oklahoma space
more commonly known as my parent’s house.
I remember my overwhelming emotion after seeing love
for the first time in weeks when she surprised me.
I remember the outfit love wore at my graduation.
I still can see the proudness in love’s eyes
as I pieced my uniform together for the first times.
Love was a search for a house,
and unknowingly standing across the street from it.

Love was so carefree the first nights of owning our own home.
I recall diligent work that love and I put into our own home.
I remember love’s cries for hating her job,
And the immense joy that came with a teaching opportunity.
I remember helping love move classroom furniture
the first day the doors were unlocked.
Love enjoyed our times of grilling hamburgers and potatoes,
and my endless pursuit to cook a steak correctly.
Love created a safe-haven within our home
for me to cast my cares and worries aside.
I will never forget love standing beside me
through unbearable stress and anxiety.
I wish I had done more for my love during this time.

I remember the first few days at Sarah and Tobi’s,
love and I trying not to intrude.
I recall a very maturing time for love and I.

I remember the willingness that love showed
as we moved back with my parents.
It was so difficult for love and I to become comfortable
in such a small space that we couldn’t call home.
Yet love proved to be just that, love.

I remember the overwhelming joy
love and I shared as we found a beautiful house.
We had finally found our own space again.
I remember the moving party we had
and the argument of where to put the Christmas tree.
I recall the joy that was in love’s eyes
as she opened her Christmas gift that was a
pure expression of my heart.
I laughed with love as the dogs slipped across the floor,
and barked somewhat ferociously at the vacuum cleaner.
I am forever grateful of the time my love stood by me
in our time of stress and anxiety.

Now a great chasm stands between me and my love.
My love is like a bird in a man’s palm.
The man cannot squeeze too tightly or he will crush the bird,
yet he cannot hold it too loosely or it will fly away.
I want to call her, but fear rejection.
I so desperately want to see her, but am afraid of what I’d see.
So I lie here, staring at the ceiling, wondering;
Is my love lost?
Eight years creates volumes of memories.
Some of them are better than others,
but I know that regardless
my wife is my love.