This picture is typical of my marriage: yes, I am a spaz, and yes, he does often look at me wondering where do I get off? But however spaz-tastic I've been during the day or how irritated he is with me, at night we sit down on our sofa, usually with Ari the Doglet curled up in a dogbun at our feet, and I listen to him. He tells me many things--the state of the world, the state of his mind, the state of me, the state of the smell of the dog, about the trips he took with his mother and the stress and horror of his job. I listen, because when in the presence of a storyteller with amazing capability for lyrical twists and turns, you don't speak. You listen, to hear where you're going this time, this trip, this story.In one such evening, listening to him talk, he stood up mid-speech and disappeared into his room to rummage for an essay, and instead brought me something else. When we were getting married, he wrote his vows to me. We went another way with our vows, but he never told me about having done this, until last night.
I read one sentence and began to cry. It doesn't belong out where uncaring, disinterested eyes might fall upon it, but I can share a little:
I want you to be proud and vocal and to state your positions like a warrior goddess. What you want matters deeply to me. I pray that you have me hear you ... Today we are united before all that is and will be but I beg you to let your individualism flourish. I commit all my resources toward a union wherein the absolute You may thrive in singular grace and dignity. Today, You and I are We but also You and I.
How lucky am I to have someone committed to helping me become a warrior goddess??
1 comment:
Oh it's really wonderfull to know that he wants to make you better. he loves you very very much. You found each over.
Dear, my congratulations!
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