There is no hope in understanding a marriage. It is bound by love and faith, not analysis. There is love in one another and more importantly love in what they create together. This home, this family, this feeling, this conversation, this intimacy, this strength, the gift giving, forgiveness and courage they form together and this friendship only exists in this marriage. It is incomprehensible… and a wondrous fact.
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Twelve years is a formidable time. Upon review, our vows act as a magnifying glass. They are strangely prophetic while painful and joyful. Reflecting on the time passed, the words reach much deeper, beyond my heart and to my belly. A long road has been traveled between twelve years and two souls, not just in time and distance but in personal growth.
During our vows we read Pablo Neruda’s Sonnet XVII that ends:
“so I love you because I know no other way than this: where I does not exist, nor you, so close that your hand on my chest is my hand, so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep”
Twelve years and our souls still merge, but do not be fooled into thinking the process is as easy, peaceful, and soothing as falling asleep. When red meets blue, they don’t just merge, but blend, fight, splatter, create structure and chaos, puncture, glow, constantly shift, recreate, learn, and reconstitute. Ultimately, the process is a form of beauty, but it is a process not a state.
My husband said this painting looked almost celestial. When I told him what it represented he said “Why? Because it is bloody and exploding everywhere?”