Two Years Later

Love is not breathlessness, it is not excitement, it is not the promulgation of promises of eternal passion. That is just being "in love" which any of us can convince ourselves we are. Love itself is what is left over when being in love has burned away, and this is both an art and a fortunate accident.
St. Augustine

Like everything else, I am a late bloomer when it comes to love.

While the young girls around me played house, and dressed up in white clothes and pretended to get married, I wrote "books", dreamed of chasing dragons, and rode horses. I never dreamed of being rescued by the prince, but rather, I dreamed of rescuing myself, of having grand adventures and wandering the world. This independent streak, coupled with my historically bad taste in men as an adult, I was single for great periods of my adult life, and this furthered my comfort with being on my own.

I needed no man, and the pride I took in being on my own generally outweighed that nagging sense of something missing, which generally was made worse during the spring wedding season. And I especially did not need, and did not want a soldier. I had a tiny inkling of what it was going to take, what I was lose, in a marriage to a career soldier, and I was not willing to give it, did not want to lose it.

My own comfort in being single, and my unwillingness to build a life with someone who wears combat boots for a living, had me running from Carl. Several times I pulled away, several times I pushed him back, only to find my heart leading me down a path I was sure I did not want to go.

And in that moment when I gave in, when I listened to the inner voice that guides me, that has more wisdom than I realized, I found love. It is not the rush of passion that was the hallmark of my entanglements, but rather, it has been a quiet, deep love. A sustaining love.

When the first blush of love withered away, I found myself with a life, with roots entwined with his. With the family I thought I'd never have, and a relationship that no matter how hard I push, stays where it is. It took me a long time, and much patience on his part, for me to shed the skin I had lived in for so long, and emerge as the wife, as the partner, as the girl back home.

Love has seen us through a war, will see us through another, and any more that will come, has seen us through the hard seasons of life, the good, and will see us through the good, the bad, and the in-between.

I love you Carl, no matter what. And I will always be the girl back home.

~Jennifer

Before Layla, before deployment, before marriage. Just.... us.