He Stood Apart

 

This is the man I married. Also known as my husband. Also known as Buck.

I love him.

Marriage with him has been the best.

I found a little writing that I wrote almost a year ago. It's about one of the first times I could fully admit that I was in love with him. So I've decided to post it here, because, well, according to my experiment of seeing who would post yesterday only about six of you read my blog. So why not be open?

February 2009

He stood apart from the crowd with his hands behind his back; a white rose pined to his dark suit jacket. He silently cried as he looked at the casket draped in an American flag.  The feathery snow whispered down to the fresh dirt.

I wanted then to be a part of him.

To leave the world and go inside.

Because. As I stood there I saw life and death in front of me. And purpose. I saw that too. And I wanted it.

            When I first saw him that morning I smelt the cologne. He’s never worn it before. I guess it is reserved only for special occasions. His grandpa’s tie was around his neck, held to his shirt with a ruby pin that was as red as a tomato.

I felt it then just as I had for a while, although still new.

A feeling of fierce need and devotion.

A longing to know and to become love. I was pleased yet insecure that this rare feeling was not mine alone, but that it was shared and given back.

            We walked out into thick snowfall. I saw my life in the snowflakes. Each one was so different and unique and beautiful but when all put together the result was white and blank. And so it is with my future. So many moments, unlike any that this world has or will ever see again but as I add them up the future is only white and blank. Still undetermined. No resolution.

I never wanted him to say good-bye and shut my door.

I never wanted to go home, even if it was only for a few days.

I only wanted to stay and try. To be apart of him. To feel for one uncomplicated moment what it feels to love.

Because. As I drove away I knew that fears would encroach and reality would water the flames. It is now that I have to grasp the simple emotion. From this spot I begin to grow. It’s here I put my roots. This feeling. The foundation to nurture all that could come. No matter how complicated it may get, I can always trace the trunk back down here.

To love.