Rob is coming home this morning. After a week apart, my heart is singing to see him again. I tell him, “It’s mo betta with two,” a silly phrase left over from a vacation a while back.
I’m astonished to recognize, after thirty years together, that I feel stronger about him now than when we were young and “in love.” You would think we would be worn out with each other. We are in love now, but without quotation marks. We have been through nitty and gritty, through thick and thin. And truly, what relationship of any depth doesn’t weather the ups and downs? We are hardly unique.
But what I see now is that we are finally in a place to appreciate each other, to be together, without all the noise. Without the daily stress of family raising, career building, without the need to protect or reserve part of self. We are free to be ourselves, and to be together. If that sounds trite, so be it. I can’t explain it better.
These moments don’t come all at once. They build over time, and recognition is slow for me. I’ve known all this for a while. But separation makes it fresh, brings it home again. My partner is coming home. And while we are not always right for each other, we are always good for each other. We are perfect together. It’s mo betta with two.