Submarine

This. This nostalgic piece of art.

Straight from the mind of the man that I call, mine.

The man who was growing into the husband I’ve always wanted.

It would be nice of me to say that it’s always easy. Twenty-five year-old me thought it should be. Hell, 30-year-old me wished it would be.

As it turns out.. it isn’t easy.. but, given the right mixture of love, prayer, patience- that you didn’t know you had, and commitment, it is most definitely worth it.

That doesn’t mean that I can see it everyday.

Sometimes taking that next step is a gut-wrenching struggle. Sometimes I am laughing and dancing along the way. On occasion the next step happens without me and I am left playing catch-up.

You would think at 38 I was too old for blogs. Too old to be putting my thoughts and feelings out there for random anyone to read.

Perhaps it’s that I’ve learned to be quietly and completely, me.

Those that know me best laugh at this.  

Quietly is not a word one would normally associate with my behavior. When I have feelings I have all the feelings and more often than not, it shows.

But then again, I have never been in a submarine.